


On The Wings Of An Albatross

by Adertily



Category: Erkenci Kuş (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Pirate, CanEm - Freeform, F/M, Flashbacks, Humour, Pirates, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2020-05-16 14:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 89,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19319782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adertily/pseuds/Adertily
Summary: "It was pure luck, really, that this hadn't happened sooner. Two years of keeping out of his reach had really been testing the limits of fate, and the sane voice inside her head kept telling her she would have to face him eventually. The world was big, but it was not nearly as big as the secret she'd kept, or the promise he'd broken, and both would inevitably pull them back together. Life was funny like that. And fate was a fucking bitch."An Erkenci Kus Pirate alternate universe. Can and Sanem share a complicated history that's explored in a series of flashbacks, while during the present day they try to rekindle what they once had. Set roughly in the late 1700's. Slowburn reconciliation but there is plenty of romantic fluff in the flashbacks to keep you sated.Profanity and violence but I'm trying to keep it lighthearted.





	1. Seagulls

Sanem passed through the unfamiliar, sleepy fishing village, walking along a cobblestone path bordering the dock as she continued her search.

Sunlight danced over the water's surface as it fell in soft ripples against the harbor wall below. A sweeping breakwater reached across the small bay in front of her, built out of large stones to shelter the fishermen's boats within and providing a place for the men to sit and chat as they ate lunch before the boats set out again for the afternoon.

Sanem pulled her cloak tighter around her as one of the fishermen sent her a wary look, she felt the itch to pull the hood over her head, but doing so would only have made her stand out more, she needed to appear confident. To act like she belonged here.

The cloak was simple but elegant, sweeping in dark waves to down around her ankles with a velvety, green lining on the inside. The dress she was wearing underneath was green too, with modest embroidered patterns over the chest forming the silhouette of flowers over the top half of the bodice. It was not the fanciest thing she had in her wardrobe yet it still put what most of the women in this village were wearing to shame. It fit her remarkably well, fortunately.

It should be noted, that a mere fourteen hours ago the garments had not belonged to her. She knew little about their previous occupant other than that she had been called Mary and clearly had a fondness for the colour green, but she must have had some sense as the thing actually, remarkably, had pockets sewn into the inside. Pockets. A perfect mix of fashion and practicality - allowing Sanem a hidden place to discreetly stash her belongings. She felt a small surge of respect for the person she had taken them from, she almost felt guilty. Almost.

Sanem continued along the path, searching for the trader's shop as seagulls flew from rooftop to rooftop above her head, diligently eyeing the fisherman with beady eyes as the men unloaded their morning hauls from their boats. She listened and drank in the sounds, as the birds called and cried to one another; in warning as squabbles broke out, and in enthusiasm as a stray fish fell out of the crates and onto the path. It was a song that sounded like home.

The birds were nothing special, a few common gulls and one or two rambunctious herring's. It was only when something darker and leaner flew overhead that she paused.

Was that...? Her eyes followed it's movements like an astronomer catching sight of a shooting star flashing across the sky. Or perhaps, like an ornithologist catching sight of a rare bird landing right in front of her - at least,  _she_  liked to think of herself as an ornithologist. Others might disagree.

The black tern swooped down, flaunting stunning, dark feathers, a long, elegant tail, and a slender body. It bravely sized up against one of the larger gulls in an attempt to commandeer the discarded scraps.

Sanem hadn't seen one of those in a while, especially not in its summer plumage. She pulled out a sketchbook from her bag and sat down on a wooden bench nearby. She had a bit of time. The other's wouldn't be going anywhere without her; she could indulge in this for a few minutes.

The tern joined a collection of other seabirds she had drawn over the last few years, annotations made in delicate, graphite lines, accompanied by the species name for those she knew and family names for those she was less sure of, some of which were still followed by a series of question marks, the paper crisp and dry from extended exposure to salty sea air. She was beginning to run out of pages.

A few minutes turned into twenty, by the time she felt content with her sketch and finally looked back up at her surroundings she found the fisherman had been joined by a friend and both were eyeing her with suspicion.

This was why she didn't make a habit of visiting little villages like this one, they were too nosy, everyone knew everyone and strangers would be picked out in an instant, just as quickly as the gulls had noticed and descended on the discarded fish. But she hadn't had much of a choice. The supplies had been running alarmingly low because of the bloody rats, they hadn't even given her the chance to reach Touson - their usual port of choice. She really needed to do something about those damn things.

"Good evening, gentlemen." She made herself smile, reminding herself to revert back to her more refined accent, that, in the absence of her mother's nagging, had slowly become more and more hidden under layers of rugged cursing. The men tried to pretend they hadn't been staring. "You wouldn't happen to know the way to the trader's shop would you?"

 

* * *

 

A bell chimed as she entered the door. The room was busy, the shelves overflowing with a range of things; glass jars of various sizes, wooden crates of vegetables and small brown bags filled dried food. Little shops like this were one of the few things she  _did_  miss about small villages. The welcoming coziness, the scent of herbs hanging in bunches from the ceiling and meats drying in the back room.

"Good afternoon," A lady behind the counter greeted as she turned around from having been organizing the shelves. "How can I help you today?" She asked, her voice faltering slightly when she noticed the unfamiliar face standing in front of her.

Sanem handed over her list of items, doing her best to smile pleasantly. The lady checked over the list, nodding as she went along.

"Pardon, ma'am," She said, glancing back up at Sanem as she began fetching the items. "But I don't recall having seen you around before." She asked. "You new around these parts?"

"Yes," Sanem replied without hesitation. "I arrived with Lady Harrington a few days ago." She'd gotten rather good at lying over the years. "My name's Mary." She offered out her hand in greeting.

"Ah, yes." The women smiled, becoming slightly more friendly as she took Sanem's hand, shaking it. "She's arrived already has she? How has she settled in at the manor?"

Parkford Manor. Where the little miss Harington was supposed to have arrived yesterday into the welcoming arms of her betrothed and his family, who were currently still eagerly awaiting her arrival. They'd be waiting a while.

"Yes, we arrived yesterday evening." Sanem nodded. "She's feeling at home already, just missing a few home comforts that the kitchen didn't have in stock."

It was, of course, just a cover story to explain the larger than normal order, a few things she actually needed, and a few that she did not, added in to throw off suspicion. She wasn't in need of any delicacies but Miss Harrington, no doubt, would have been. A large bag of flour, another of salt, and a third of rice, a selection of dried meats, pickled vegetables, a bundle of rosemary and parsley along with a few other herbs she had never even heard of, a handful of oranges and a plucked quail. The latter had been Ceycey's idea. He'd promised to cook them all quail soup for dinner.

The shopkeeper collected the items into an old potato sack as Sanem fetched a few coins from her purse, sliding them across the countertop. Under the guise of a lady's maid, she could get away without explaining why she had a small fortune in her purse. Sanem smiled politely as the women handed over her order.

"You be careful now young miss." The women said sincerely. "There's been talk of a suspicious ship lurking round the waters lately. My boy swears he saw another one a few miles from here. Best be careful."

Another one? That was news. Sanem nodded in thanks. "I'll let my lady know."  _One has to be wary when pirates are about_ , she thought, instinctively placing a hand over her dagger that was hidden under her cloak. Thank god for pockets.

 

* * *

 

Sanem left the shop, stepping back out into the sunshine with the bag hanging over her shoulder. Perhaps the real Mary would have had a horse to help carry everything, but Sanem was not so lucky.

She left the village, setting off along the well worn, dirt path trailing the edge of the coastline towards the Manor, walking up and over the undulating hills as they rose and fell, stepping over bubbling streams at the bottom of the valleys and catching her breath for a moment every time she reached the top.

Lush, green farmland in which a herd of cows were crazing, stretched to her right, sharply boarded by a cliff edge to her left, the rocks greeted by bright blue seas down below.

She paused to rest in the shade of an old farm building, dropping the bag to the ground as she took a moment to sketch one of the baby calves after it wandered over to the edge of the fence line to say hello.

 

* * *

 

It had beautiful little eyes. She'd never gotten very good at eyes, not enough to do them justice, half the time when drawing birds they weren't even necessary, to small and dark to see from a distance and feather patterns were far more interesting. The ways the wings stretched out to catch the currents in the wind, tails bowing to keep balance -

What the hell was that? She jumped up suddenly, feeling something crawl into the inside of her cloak. The poor thing tumbled to the ground as she stood up in a panicked rush. Having rats crawl under your bedding in the middle of the night tended to make one a bit skittish.

Sanem took a moment to let her heart stop racing as she stared at the culprit on the grass.

It was a cat.

Truthfully, it was scarcely more than a kitten, a scrawny, little runt of a thing with bedraggled, black fur and painful looking red scratch marks on its nose and ears. It must have been born on, and consequently kicked out of, the farm that owned the cows.

Sanem watched it for a moment as it stared back at her. It seemed friendly enough, perhaps it had just been seeking a bit of company when it had burrowed under her cloak.

"How would you like to get very, very fat?" She propositioned.

 

* * *

 

Sanem set off again, picking up the bag that had now begun to wriggle and whine in annoyance. Sanem didn't feel pity, better it be taken somewhere where it wouldn't get beaten up by bigger, plumper farm cats. Which, by the look of its nose, it had been putting up with for some time.

After a while, the path met a fork in the road, right for Parkford Manor and left for Teignon village - another whole eight miles away. Sanem turned left.

 

* * *

 

A while later, long enough for the cat to finally stop squirming, Sanem found herself at a cove, the path meandered down all the way to the sand where Sanem took the opportunity to take off her shoes and let herself enjoy the feeling of the sand against her bare toes as she headed towards the water's edge.

She paused at the sight of a large ship in the distance, docked just out of sight and well out of reach of where anyone would find it by accident. Respectable, honest ships would have simply moored up in a proper harbor rather than choosing to lurk in a cove in the middle of nowhere. Clearly, they hadn't wanted to be seen - though perhaps they were not doing the best job of it if people in the village had spotted them.

Sanem tensed as she heard a shout, her hand flying to her dagger at the realisation it had been aimed at her, the hairs on her arms standing on end as she watched a man storm towards her with a sword in his hand.


	2. Bandit

Sanem carefully let the bag slide off her shoulder onto the ground as she braced herself. The man ran towards her with his sword held haphazardly out in front of him as he charged. The weight of it not quite balanced right in his hands.  _Well, that's just sloppy,_ she thought as she stepped purposefully towards him, cursing as the dress tangled loosely around her ankles - this was not the outfit to be fighting in. She didn't want to get it ruined.

Sanem dodged as he reached her, attempting his first swing, the weight of the sword unbalancing him slightly and giving her time to dart behind him out of reach, pulling her dagger out just in case she needed it.

He spun back round to face her, his sword already arching through the air, determined to catch her skin and turn it red, but, once again, she was a heartbeat ahead of him, ducking out of the way a second too late for him to change his aim. He cursed to himself in frustration. Sanem's heart beat heavily in her chest.  _Come on, you can do better than that._

He changed his tactic, anticipating her defense as he attacked this time, nimbly changing the direction of the swing halfway through to follow her movements as she dodged. Sanem had no choice but to block his blade with her little knife, perhaps, if he'd had a sharper sword, the momentum of the parry would have shattered the dagger's hilt. Instead, she caught his blade. Snagging his sharp weapon against her own with a metallic clang, before she pushed forward, using his weight against him and preventing him from unhooking his sword without fumbling backward. Sanem smirked. He may have had the bigger weapon but her's was far more dangerous.

She caught sight of a piece of driftwood on the sand behind him, conveniently placed, and something he seemed entirely unaware of. Maybe it was slightly unfair. But it would be a valuable learning opportunity. She shoved her weight into where their weapons were joined and pushed him backward with all her strength.

He took a few powerless steps back before, inevitably, he tripped. Falling into a heap onto the ground as he grunted, defeated, the sword landing against the sand beside him.

"Congratulations, Ceycey" Sanem grinned, as she bowed mockingly. "I'm pretty sure you lasted a whole two seconds longer than last time."

Ceycey stared at her, looking slightly ashamed of himself before he took her outstretched arm, allowing her to help him onto his feet "Was it that bad?"

"You're getting better. But maybe try to not announce your arrival just before you attack." She joked. "You might have gotten away with a few more seconds before I noticed you if you hadn't practically screamed that you were approaching. And don't pay so much attention to the person your fighting that you forget to keep an eye on your surroundings."

Ceycey dusted off the sand from his backside before awkwardly fetching his sword of the ground, the blade still looking foreign and unwelcome in his inexperienced hands.

"Don't worry, you'll get there eventually." She promised, pocketing her own blade. "It took me a whole year of practicing day and night to get the hang of it. You can't expect to be a pro after just a few weeks of sparing."

Like many of them, Ceycey hadn't been born into this life, though he was later than most in choosing it. He'd been a kitchen servant of some sort to some rich someone-or-other but had become bored of that life and soon let himself fall drunk on tales of the open ocean and glittering treasures - it was a story they all shared to some extent.

"Come on." She retrieved the bag of food of the ground a short distance away, pushing it into Ceycey's arms for him to carry. "We've got a boat to catch."

Sanem set off, followed by Ceycey, towards a familiar, wooden paddle boat that was waiting for them near the edge of the water, just out of reach of the pull of the waves.

"What took you so long anyway?" Ceycey asked, rebalancing the weight of the large bag in his arms as it slipped slightly.

"I was drawing," Sanem replied simply.

"Drawing?" Ceycey sighed. "Of course you were. You know, we were starting to get worried, you were a whole hour late."

"Oh, stop fussing. Besides, you'll be pleased to know I found you your quail." She gestured towards the bag. "And a little solution to our not-so-little rat problem."

Ceycey nearly squealed when the bag began wriggling. It was lucky he didn't drop it. "Your sure the quail was dead right?"

Sanem laughed, opening the bag's drawstrings before pulling out the lean, black cat, choosing to carry it in her arms now she had both hands free. It purred as she rubbed its chin.

"Ah, I see." Ceycey smiled. "A little rat catcher." He paused, peeking into the bag. "He won't have eaten any of the food would he?"

"No," Sanem replied. "Hopefully."

 

* * *

 

Sanem was not in the habit of calling herself a pirate, yet it was a label that other people gave to her easily. Truthfully, it was just a means to an end, a way of earning enough money to pursue her real passions and a way of tasting the freedom her previous life had never offered.

The Albatross had not always been a pirate ship. Like any ship, it's purpose was dictated simply by the intentions of the person standing behind the helm; no desire or need for piracy was woven into its sails or varnished into its wooden boards. For now, it was a pirate ship, because Sanem was a pirate. But it hadn't been built with that destiny in mind. Though, perhaps the same could be said about its crew.

Contradictory to its namesake, Sanem's ship was a fairly small thing, barely bigger than a large fishing boat, handleable with only a small crew and with a humble captain's cabin that Deren had joked was scarcely bigger than a matchbox. It was not much to look at. But it was hers.

It's unfearsome size didn't quell its reputation none. The Albatros, not in spite of, but as a direct consequence of its small stature, was one of the most feared vessels on the seas. It was fast. A sneaky assassin of a ship that could quietly slip through the night like a ghost traveling in mist over the water to sneak up on its victims. Sight of the purple and stark black sails made most sailors tremble. But not from fear for their life - Sanem was not in the business of wantonly killing - but out of fear that they were about to be robbed blind. If there is one thing a pirate cares about more than their own life, it's their hoard of treasures.

Ceycey paddled them towards the ship, stopping next to the Jacob's ladder hanging down the side and shouting for someone to throw a rope down to winch the paddle boat back in place. They climbed up the ladder, the boat pulled up behind them easily, with only the weight of the food and perturbed cat inside.

"Don't worry, Bandit" She said hauling the cat back onto her shoulders once the paddle boat was in reach of the deck. "You'll get your sea legs in no time."

"Bandit?" Ceycey asked.

"Yeah - his new name," Sanem explained. "What do you think?"

Ceycey shrugged. "It suits him."

"Captain," They both turned as Deren approached. Deren glanced quickly at the black cat perched on Sanem's shoulders before moving on undisturbed. "Uh, how was your trip?"

"Pretty successful I'd say," Sanem replied as Ceycey pulled the bag out of the boat. "How long do you think the food will last us?" She asked him.

"A week. Maybe two."

"Good, plenty long enough to get us across the channel then." All the way to Touson.

"You could have sent someone else you know." Deren pointed out. "It's not exactly safe for you to go wandering through civilization. What if you were recognized? What if you were captured? We'd much rather our captain kept her head."

"I was fine, I had my dagger on me and no one would expect a pirate to be wearing clothes like this." She said, making the dress twirl around her ankles. "Besides, it's good to step on dry land every once in a while, it helps to keep me grounded. Anyway, that reminds me - how are our ' _friends'_  doing." She wondered. "Have they been ... dealt with?"

"Yes," Deren nodded. "Lady Harrington and her entourage were dropped off a few hours up the coast. By the time they arrive at the Manor, we'll be well on our way."

It hadn't been their intention to attack the Harrington ship, it had been dark and the unfamiliar ship's canons had turned on them before Sanem could give the command to slip quietly passed. They fought back in defense and soon watched the other ship sink into the water as Miss Harington, her maids and a few of its sailors were pushed behind the locked door of the Albatross' brig. 

Sanem considered keeping her for ransom but they didn't have the time to deal with all the hassle, they needed to keep moving. And with the need for a disguise to sneak into the village for food, it had all worked out quite nicely.

"Good. We continue on to Touson then." Sanem gave the order, and in a mere moment the crew, that had been sitting idle, sprung to life as Deren shouted to drop the sails.

 

* * *

 

Twilight settled over the sky like a blanket as the sun fell pink and lazy behind the edge of the horizon. Sea stretched out for miles around, calmly reflecting the colours of the sky like a mirror, speckled with the glimmer of a few evening stars, distorted slightly by the gentle waves.

The crew sat around lazily, content after Ceycey's quail soup dinner and waiting for night to fall. Bandit dozed on the railing, his bloated stomach suggesting had already begun earning his keep. 

Some of the crew began drifting away to their hammocks below deck at Sanem's go ahead. She approached Ceycey and Bulut standing on the forecastle deck, wrapping her cloak tighter around her to keep out the evening chill. Ceycey stood with a nearly empty bottle in his hand, his friend beside him remaining sober to soldier through his shift as lookout.

"Keep a careful eye out tonight, Bulut." Sanem warned as she stepped towards them. "Some people in the village suggested a second ship might be about, they may have followed us."

Bulut nodded.

"Do you think it's  _Him_?" Ceycey slurred slightly. Sanem and Bulut just stared at him.

"Who?" Bulut asked.

"Him!" Ceycey began, waving his hand and making some of the contents of his bottle splash on the deck. "The king of the sea!" He began again dramatically. "The very man who - single-handedly - defeated an armada eighteen ships strong at the battle of Jaik's harbor. The very man who bravely took down the fearsome Kraken itself, aiming a whale bolt straight through its heart. The very man who -"

"Shut up, Ceycey." Sanem snapped. "That's a load of dramatized bullshit and you know it. It wasn't eighteen ships, it was seven, and I would know because I was there. And secondly, the Kraken doesn't exist - "

"Well it doesn't now, because he killed it."

Sanem shot him a glare. "There is no biological evidence that such a creature has ever lived, and if it  _were_  true, knowing him, he would have kept a trophy as proof. A giant eyeball, or one of its many teeth. Which it doesn't have of course - because it's not real."

"What do you have against him anyway? Why do you hate him so much?" Ceycey really should have been paying attention to the glare of warning Bulut was sending him.

"Pirate captains all hate other pirate captains, that's kind of how it works." She shrugged.

"Yeah but it's different between you two. It's like it's personal."

Sanem clenched her jaw, her hand forming a fist at her side as she troubled over the words. "He... fucking stole my cat."

"Your cat?" Ceycey puzzled, pausing for a moment. "Uh, is that a euphemism?"

Sanem glared at him sharply. He almost backed away from the heat in her eyes but Bulut's warning shout distracted both of them.

"Ship ahead!"

Sanem looked in the direction he was pointing, snatching a telescope from his belt to get a better view. Dark blue sails with a crimson sea serpent twisting over the canvas - headed on a path straight towards them under the partial cover of darkness. Sanem swore to herself.

She knew that ship.

"What do we do?" Deren asked, appearing from the first mate's cabin after having heard Bulut's shout. "Do we run?" It wouldn't be difficult to outpace them.

"No," Sanem replied. "Not today."

She had a debt to settle. 

 

 


	3. Kızıl Yılan

Sanem landed on the deck of the Kızıl Yılan with a thud, letting go of the loose rail line she had used to swing across, the tether to her ship slipping out of her hand as Deren and Bulut landed beside her. The rest of her crew watching carefully, perched atop the rigging lines of the Albatross.

"Evening, Yigit," Sanem greeted with an insincere smile as she strolled towards him, unafraid, giving only the briefest glance to his crew standing tensely around them, who stood with one hading resting on the pommel of their sheathed weapons. "So kind of you not to set your cannons on us, that really would've ruined my day and it had been going so well so far."

"Kindness has nothing to do with it," Yigit replied, his face remaining stony, his eyebrows stern.  _I don't think I've ever seen him smile_ , she thought to herself. "We are allies are we not?" He finished gruffly.

Sanem set her jaw. 'Allies' was a modest way of putting it - he needed her, but she most definitely didn't need him. She just needed his map.

It had been only a few weeks since their last encounter. Sanem had been planning to infiltrate the White Cliff naval base under the cover of darkness but a rogue pirate vessel had shot holes straight through the Albatross's wings. Wounded like a crippled bird they'd been stuck in plain sight of the base waiting for the rising sun to bring their deaths.

But Yigit had so _conveniently_ appeared at just the right moment and towed the Albatross away, allowing Sanem the materials and time to fix her tattered sails. She was more than certain he'd organize the attack in the first place, knowing that she would then owe him a favor for saving their necks, he always had an ulterior motive.  _Bastard_. He'd hurt her ship, she wanted to hurt his back.

Sanem came to a halt in front of him, flanked by her friends, meeting Yigits glare as the two captains sized each other up. It felt strange not wearing her captain's hat, she felt substantially smaller without it - she hoped the fierceness in her eyes was making up for it.

"What -" Yigit stuttered, noticing the full extent of her outfit for the first time and breaking out of his composure. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"It's a dress, Yigit." She replied, twirling the skirt around. "What, - don't tell me you have never seen a dress before?" She smirked internally at how flustered he seemed, to be fair, it was quite the change from what she usually wore - he was probably more surprised than anything else.

Yigit coughed before continuing. "You were supposed to meet me at Black Water Cavern eight days ago, you didn't show up."

"Apologies for that, Yigit." Sanem smiled, not even trying to make it seem genuine. "We had to restock a few things." It wasn't entirely a lie, but she'd never had any real intention of joining him afterward. 

Yigits eyes narrowed. "You owe me, Sanem. Don't forget that."

"How could I forget, when you won't even give me the chance." She joked. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

Yigit sighed. "At ease," He commanded, his crew relaxing and letting their tense hands fall away from their weapons. "Perhaps we can discuss the plan inside?" He gestured towards his quarters.

Sanem glanced at Deren, who seemed on edge but nodded anyway.

 

* * *

 

Yigit described his cabin as luxurious; Sanem would have called it extravagant. The back wall consisted of a large expanse of glass that reached almost all the way from the floor to the ceiling, some of the panels had even been stained - through the design was precarious, as if the coloured patches had been put in to replace broken sections. In the pink glow of evening, it washed the room in a multi-colored, candescent glow. The beauty of it seemed wasted on a man like Yigit, she doubted he appreciated it. 

The light fell on a room that was chaotic but not messy, walls were patched with various maps and drawings that, after inspection, appeared to be of little importance. It took Sanem a few moments to realise the already large room had no bed, a whole separate area to the right held his sleeping quarters.  _Well, that's just greedy._

Sanem heard Deren whistled under her breath in amazement at the stolen decorations and artwork ornamenting the room, sitting on shelves, hanging from the walls and a few in unloved piles on the floor. Yigit was a bit of a dragon when it came to treasure, he liked to have it just for the sake of having it, just so he could have the pleasure of sitting on his hoard and be able to show it off to anyone in sight. He'd probably cut off their hands if he caught them stealing anything. But Sanem was aware that anything of true value, his most treasured possessions, were locked away deep inside the ship where raiders would have trouble reaching them. What lay around his room was colourful and ornamental, but it was only the tip of the iceberg.

"So," Sanem began. "Black Water Cavern - I'm assuming you found the instructions on how to get in? Going to that damn place would suicide without them." Or at least that's what the legends said. Too many pirates had died trying to enter in search of the treasure that was supposed to be hidden inside. She'd never attempted to herself. It didn't seem worth it.

"I'm aware of that," Yigit pulled an old, weathers book out of his desk drawer, letting it land on the table in a cloud of dust. "The map and instructions are in here," He wouldn't dare open it, not with Sanem standing close enough to peer inside. He couldn't even risk her getting one look - he knew that was all she needed.

"And explain to me again why you need  _my_  help?" Sanem asked.

"My ship is too large to fit in the cavern."

"You have tenders on your ship, don't you? I'm sure they're small enough, why couldn't you use one of them?" Deren pointed out.

"We've tried that. The smaller boats never return, we still haven't figured out why."

"Has it occurred to you that perhaps your men are just running away with the treasure?" Sanem suggested.

Yigit let out an exasperated sigh, looking at Sanem as if she were stupid. "My men are loyal, Sanem. They wouldn't do that. Besides, there is only one entrance in and out, and the book specifies that only a ship can be sailed inside - not a measly little paddle boat."  _Well, that seemed... odd._

"Then why not steal a fisherman's vessel or something - one that would be the right size? Then you wouldn't need to share the spoils with me." Sanem suggested.

"I didn't have the time," Yigit replied simply. She wasn't sure if she was happy with that answer, there was more to his suggestion of an alliance than he was putting forward.

"So, you're wanting me to sail  _my_  ship and  _my_  crew into a partially flooded cavern in which all your expeditions into so far have ended with men disappearing - and most likely dead?" Sanem asked, crossing her arms.

He nodded. "I will be traveling on your ship with you, of course."

"Brilliant, that's  _so_  reassuring," Deren replied sarcastically.

Yigits eyes turned hard. "I just mean that I'll be in just as much danger as you. I'm not expecting you to go in alone." It was uncharacteristically considerate of him, but most likely he just wanted to make sure they didn't cheat him out of any of the spoils. Either way, it was reassuring. If Yigit was willing to enter the cavern too then he must have been confident in what he'd discovered in that book. Now she was curious.

"What's written in here will guide us inside." He said. "I will use it to lead the way, and if all goes well, we'll both be considerably richer by this time tomorrow."

"Great," She replied, now that she was genuinely intrigued the sarcasm in her tone waned slightly. "Well, it's getting late. If you'll excuse us, we should probably be heading back. How about we set sail in the right direction and reconvene in the morning." Not that she'd be letting herself sleep with the Kızıl Yılan nearby.

"Or you could stay, spend the night here?" He offered, a little too easily.

Sanem blinked in surprise. "How forward of you, Yigit." _Had he really just asked that?_

He floundered, though whether it was from the unintentional meaning behind his words or the clear rejection on her face she wasn't entirely sure. "I - I just meant that you could take the first mates quarters, I know it's probably bigger and more comfortable than your own."

Ah, and there it was. Re-establishing his ego by comparing the size of their ships - well that was just childish. _Compensating for something there, Yigit?_

Sanem thought for a moment, his proposal was a game, a test of trust for both of them. She could refuse, change her mind and maybe slip her ship away in the night before enough of his crew were awake to catch up, or she could accept - and risk being kidnapped or murdered in her sleep. Logically, the answer seemed obvious.

"Alright," She agreed, aware she was probably being incredibly reckless. But maybe it would allow her the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. "But Deren stays with me."

"Fine. We are in agreement on the plan then?" He offered out his hand.

Sanem nodded, taking his arm by the wrist as he did the same to her's before they shook in concession.

Yigit stepped back, passing the dusty, old book to one of his men, quietly ordering him to take it below deck. Sanem pretended not to be listening, she dismissed Bulut, instructing him to head back to the ship and using the opportunity of Yigit's distracted attention to whisper something in Bulut's ear. A different plan was already forming in her mind, but not one she imagined Yigit would be particularly fond of.

Bulut nodded to her discreetly before excusing himself, sharing one last look with his captain before he disappeared from the room and headed back to the Albatross.

Yigit turned back to Sanem, indicating towards a little dining table set up to the side of the room. "Are you hungry?"

"We've already eaten." Sanem sat anyway, Deren standing a respectful distance behind her as guard.

They sat in what Sanem would have described as a comfortably awkward silence for a while. Sanem proudly watched Yigit fidget, while doing nothing to alleviate the silence, as a young man with curly brown hair and small blue and purple marks covering the skin of his face set out plates in front of them. A servant no doubt - rather than a part of the crew. She tried to send him a soft smile but he wouldn't look her in the eye.

Despite Sanem's refusal, a mini banquet was presented in front of them. A bottle of wine, various bird pies, salted meats, fruits and pastries in patterns she had never seen before. It all seemed a bit lavish. The sort of thing she imagined Lady Harington would be greeted with when she finally arrived, flustered and disheveled, at the house of her betrothed. It was not a typical pirates meal; he was clearly showing off.

Sanem leaned back in her chair. "What is it you want, Yigit?" She said bluntly, holding in a sigh.

He paused, midway through stocking up his gold-rimmed dining plate with a selection of delicacies. He spoke slowly. "I am assuming your allegiance with the Kotu Kral is no longer valid after the ... incident."

She wasn't surprised he knew about that. Almost everyone sailing the seas - pirate or not - knew about the separation that had left the ocean permanently unsettled and on edge. Pirates liked having stories to chew on, it was a preferred past time, and her story had been one of the biggest pieces of gossip since the map to Anaiga had been unearthed - but that was a different topic entirely.

"That assumption would be correct." She confirmed dryly. It had been nearly three years, and all she had left of that arrangement was a missing cat and a broken piece of her heart she'd had to leave behind on the mainland.

"We could make quite the formidable pair you know," Yigit said slowly as he took a bite of pie.

Sanem glanced at him, the hairs on her arms standing on end in repulsion, trying to read his face before she spoke wearily. "What are you suggesting?" She really hoped she'd misinterpreted.

Yigit took a sip from his wine glass. "A marriage alliance between our ships could be highly advantageous for us both." He said it so casually, as if he were offering a pastry instead of a proposal.

Sanem begged her eyes to stop rolling. His vehement insistence that  _she_  be the one to help him reach Black Water Cavern made more sense now, perhaps she should have realised sooner.

"Yigit," She sighed, standing up from her chair, making it groan against the wooden floorboards as her legs pushed it backward. "Stop. I'm flattered, really -." She wasn't. "-and thank you for the offer of food and a bed to sleep in but it's been a long day, I'd like to get some rest if you don't mind."

"Of course," He stood, calling over the servant boy and instructing him to show her to the first mate's cabin. Yigit didn't seem openly offended by her blatant rejection, but Sanem had the feeling he'd just made a mental note to leave a knife in her back the moment he no longer needed her.

 

* * *

 

Despite how embellished Yigit's quarters had been, the first mate's room was surprisingly empty. Clearly, Yigit was not in the habit of sharing his spoils amongst his crew.

"What's the plan?" Deren asked as soon as they were safely out of earshot behind closed doors. "We're not really going along with what he said right?"

"No," Sanem agreed, carefully checking the door was securely locked. "We're getting that map, then we're getting out of here." And hopefully, they'd have the chance to cripple his ship at the same time.

"So, what do we do now?" Deren asked.

"For now, we wait." 


	4. A Book, A Battle, and A Boom

Sanem had a theory; if Yigit expected them to do something, then he would expect them to not waste time getting on with it. She believed, and hoped, that if they could keep quiet until the first cautious traces of dawn began to peek their way through the night sky, that Yigit's guard would drop, and the occasional pacing of his lookout on the other side of the door would eventually cease. Ideally, he would mistakenly think his guest were fast asleep and eventually give in to it himself. That way, they might actually stand a chance of making this work.

Sanem let Deren sleep, one of them might as well have gotten some rest - as she counted the minutes between the quiet footfalls on the other side of the door, pinching her arm every time her eyes began to droop too much, amusing herself with exploring the contents of the room and rummaging through the first mate's belongings. She wondered where the poor sod had been evicted to for the night.

She didn't find much of interest, but a silver telescope with a pretty golden inlaid design caught her attention. She slipped it into her pocket.

 

* * *

 

It was near morning when Sanem pried the door open to peer outside, the lookout hadn't been past in almost an hour, perhaps he had finally closed his eyes somewhere and been unable to open them again. Though it would be unlikely if he were the only one awake and on watch, but the deck looked empty. The ship was quiet.

Sanem turned back into the room, her heart beginning to jump around in her chest both from excitement and fear. They needed to be careful for this to work.

Deren's 'good morning' came in the form of muffled swearing as Sanem shook her awake, her co-captain had never particularly liked rising before the sun but Sanem was sure that her mumbled ‘fuck off,’ was bordering insubordination.

A feathered pillow slapped against her head finally, involuntarily, woke Deren up.

"I'm awake." Deren groaned regretfully. "I’m awake."

 

* * *

 

Sanem creaked the door open again, taking a careful look around before she waved for Deren to follow. Despite the darkness, she was sure she could make out Bulut's figure up the rail lines of the Albatross. He should be ready and waiting for her signal.

They crept towards the staircase that would take them below deck and hopefully to where the book was hidden. The first flight took them down towards the sound of snoring. Sanem avoided the doorway leading to where a canopy of hammocks held the majority of Yigit's sleeping crew, continuing down.

The stairs eventually stopped descending, but with a ship this size there should have been at least another level before they reached the base. But she hadn't expected Yigit's stash to be easy to find.

"We just have to find the lower levels, snoop around a bit," Sanem whispered to Deren as they tentatively started down one of the hallways. "We'll find the book. Hopefully we can -."

Yigit's curly haired servant suddenly appeared behind the corner, practically bumping into them. His eyes went wide, Sanem was pretty sure hers were doing the same.

"What are you doing?" The poor boy looked as if he'd  _really_  been hoping to get through the night without them causing any trouble.

Sanem's arms seemed to respond before her brain did, grabbing the telescope from her pocket and two-handedly whacking it against the side of his skull before he could even blink. He dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. "Sorry." She apologised, before noticing the spyglass had just shattered in her hands. "Shit." Sanem whined, turning it over in her hands. "It was so pretty."

"Come on!" Deren nudged, attempting to pull his limp body out of sight.

They quickly dragged him through to an empty storeroom, propping him up against the wall.

"What do we do with him? What if he wakes up?"

"Uh, you stay with him. Knock him out again if you need to." Sanem shrugged, already turning to leave.

"Where are you going?" Deren hissed.

"You'll be fine. I'll be back in a few minutes."

 

* * *

 

Yigit had so many rooms. Sanem might have gotten lost if she hadn't been paying attention.

It was starting to feel suspiciously quiet, she was certain Yigit must have had at least a handful of guards on duty tonight yet she didn’t come across a single one of them, weaving her way through the gallery and down towards the cargo hold, discovering another set of steps downwards before she was certain she’d reached the bottom layer. The air was slightly damp here and the wooden floorboards made a different noise as she walked across them. Ducking into a gap under the staircase, she used the opportunity to scout out the hallway beyond. She must have been close by now.

"What are you doing?" A voice asked. Sanem stood suddenly, startled, whacking her head into the underside of the staircase.

"Ow," She groaned, rubbing her head, looking around for who had spoken. The tone had been curious rather than accusatory as the servant boy’s had been. And the fact that no alarm call had been set of must have been a good thing. Right?

She caught sight of a woman peeking her eyes through the barred window of a thick wooden door. The Brig. The ships prison - most likely locked. "Uh, I'm looking for something." She replied, slightly dumbfounded.

"What are you looking for?"

"Uh, I'm - " She was sure a small bump was forming on the top of her skull. "I'm looking for a book.” She stammered. “Who are you anyway, how did you end up in here?"

"Oh, my names Ayhan.” She smiled. “And it's kind of a long story."

"Alright," Sanem said slowly. "Well, if you don't mind, I was kind of in the middle of stealing something…"

"So you’re  _not_ part of his crew?" She interrupted. Sanem shook her head. "But of course you’re not, I would have recognised you, and he thinks it's bad luck to have a woman on board."

_Of course he would think that. Superstitious bastard._

“How did  _you_  end up here?” Ayhan asked.

“I was invited over for dinner.” Sanem frowned, Ayhan seemed a bit too chirpy considering the situation she was in. “I just came across from my ship to -”

"You have a ship?” The girl's eyes went wide. “Can you take me with you?"

"Um," Sanem tentatively prodded the lump on her head.

"Please," Ayhan begged. "I won't be any trouble, and I could help you find what you're looking for.”

“Fine,” Though Sanem wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted this girl, who seemed to be the closest thing to the human personification of an exclamation mark she had ever seen, staying on her ship.

"What about my brother?" Ayhan prodded.

“You have a brother?"

"Yeah, he's working as a servant here."

_Oh._

"About yay high?” Sanem indicated. “Curly brown hair?"

Ayhan nodded. "He's a cook." He was also quite unconscious.

Sanem let out a deep breath. “Alright.” She wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to get the door open though.

“The jailor’s room is through there.” Ayhan pointed behind Sanem, nonchalant. “He should have the keys.”

Sanem raised an eyebrow. “You say that as if it would be so easy - like I could just waltz in and take them from him, maybe throw a few ‘pleases’ around and hope for the best?”

Ayhan shrugged.

“I swear to god if I die trying to rescue you, I’m gonna come back as a ghost and haunt you for -” Sanem paused as she heard the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open behind her.  _Fuck._  He must have heard them squabbling.

 

* * *

 

Ayhan closed her eyes, stepping away from the door so she didn’t have to watch as her captor and potential saviour duelled each other. She would have suggested the poor girl didn’t stand a chance; Serkan was tall and brawny, built like a cannibalistic-inclined bull - but fortunately, he had the brains to match.

The sound of clashing weapons was rapidly followed by a choked gasp and the thud of a body hitting the floor. Ayhan was almost too nervous to open her eyes. Only doing so when the jingle of keys in the door of her jail cell finally revived her last shred of hope.

Sanem met her on the other side. The exasperated fake smile on her face suggesting the blood covering her hands was not her own.

“How did you-?” Ayhan began.

“We don’t have time for this,” Sanem pleaded, stepping over the body and the pile of blood that was pooling over the floor, dragging Ayhan by the hand along with her down the corridor.

 

* * *

 

Ayhan wouldn’t stop talking as they cautiously moved through the ship, she seemed to know the way to Yigit’s hoard so Sanem let her lead, Sanem had to keep reminding her to keep to a whisper when her voice became too excited. Apparently, she and her brother had been on Yigit’s ship for only a few weeks, the passenger vessel they’d been traveling on had been ransacked by his crew and the other passengers left for dead. Yigit had only spared them because Osman - the brother, Sanem assumed - had pleaded that he could be of service. Ayhan swore his pies were to die for. Sanem was slightly regretful that she hadn’t tried one earlier, and even more regretful that she’d bashed him around the head. She’d have to apologize later. She hoped Deren was playing nice.

Ayhan finally stopped outside a nondescript, wooden door, only differentiated from those around it by a formidable padlock keeping it shut. “It should be in there.” She pointed.

“How did you even know how to find it if you’ve been locked up the whole time,” Sanem asked, fumbling through Serkan’s keys as she looked for the right one.

“Well, I mean, I wasn’t locked up the  _whole_  time.” Ayhan said. “I was put to work cleaning and sewing and a bunch of other tasks the men decided they didn’t want to do… but I, uh.” She paused. “They said I got too ‘annoying’.”

Sanem snoted.

“Finally,” The key slotted into place and the heavy door creaked open as Sanem pushed her weight against it. The room was small; a storage space like most of the others - except this one was almost empty.

“Huh, is that it?” She asked, moving to pick up the book off a display case at the back of the room, the words ‘Kara Mağara’ etched into the front cover. She’d really been expecting more stored away down here considering the years of Yigit’s boasting she and the other pirate captains had been putting up with for years. The dragon’s secret hoard was pitiful.

 

* * *

 

Sanem hurried undisturbed back to the room in which she had abandoned Deren and Osman, telling Ayhan to be silent as they lurked quietly along the unusually empty hallways. Sanem’s heart began to pound, something didn’t feel quite right about this. Where was everybody?

Deren nearly pounced on Ayhan as they entered the hiding space.

“Relax, she’s a friend,” Sanem promised as the ‘friend’ in question darted forward to her brother who was beginning to regain consciousness, and consequently had been tied up and gagged.

“Sanem,” Deren hissed. “That was more than a few minutes!”

“I know, I’m sorry, but I found the book.” She whispered, pulling it out of her pocket. “Oh, we can let him go now, he's not going to be any trouble.” She indicated towards Osman, as Deren nearly protested at his sister pulling the gag out of his mouth. Sanem quickly updated her on what had happened.

“Sorry about earlier,” Sanem helped to pull Osman to his feet, using her dagger to cut his hands free. “Can you walk?”

He nodded.

 

* * *

 

Now that they were familiar with the route, finding their way back up to the main deck again took only a few seconds. It was Deren that noticed the complete lack of snoring now coming from the crew's sleeping quarters, the silence immediately had Sanem’s hackles rising.

Sanem took out her dagger, sharing a look with the others as she stepped out onto the deck - where a whole battalion of Yigit’s men waiting for them.

“There was really no need for this, Sanem.” The bastard actually looked smug.

Sanem didn’t even grace him with a reply. Her eyes flickered towards a shadow of movement on the Albatross behind Yigit and his men. Bulut had kept her ship close. Good.

“Just give me back the book and this can all be forgotten.” Yigit offered.

“You know, I’m not sure I really want to do that.” Sanem returned his glare. Her small band of four seemed pitiful against Yigit’s near-twenty, and by the look in Osman and Ayhan’s eyes she really only had two good fighters on her side, including herself. Her grip on her dagger tightened.

“Sanem, I-” Yigit began, but all of a sudden shouting erupted from the Albatross as her crew descended, it hadn't been the original plan but Bulut was a saint when it came to improvisation. They charged at Yigit’s men from behind, taking them by surprise as they leapt between the decks and attacked in a flurry of clashing swords.

Deren and Sanem went back to back as two of Yigit’s men darted towards them. Sanem’s attacker was a fierce looking man with an old wooden stump for a leg, she almost felt mean - until he pulled out dual swords from his belt and, in a quick movement, tore a gash into the skirt of her dress, horrifically ripping it open as she dodged his attack. Why did she have to keep breaking all of her new toys today? It wasn’t fair.

Sanem groaned in frustration, ducking under his next swing and kicking out at his false leg, it fell off with a satisfying snap as he toppled to the ground along with his blades as he used his hands to catch himself against the deck. Sanem kicked him in the head, leaving him unconscious.

Osman stood wide-eyed, half cowering near a wall at the back of the ship, his sister sitting behind him with her hands over her ears. The rush of battle seemed to have pulled him out of his daze but he seemed unsure what to do.

“Choose a side.” She yelled at him, kicking one of the swords towards him and taking the other for herself, before parrying another blade as its wielder lunged at her. She took little time in disarming him, twisting the sword out of his hand and flicking it overboard, giving in to a satisfied grin when she heard it splash into the water. Her attacker glared at her, pulling a fearsome dagger from his belt before advancing towards her again. Sanem braced herself, but in a mere moment, the man in front of her collapsed with a pained wail. Sanem’s eyes were drawn to the sudden abundance of red surrounding the sword now poking through his leg, Osman appeared from behind him as the man crippled over, looking both horrified and slightly impressed with himself. “Good job.” Sanem congratulated. “Now don’t get yourself killed.”

She turned back to check on the rest of her crew, during the fight she’d become distanced from Deren who was now pitifully surrounded at all sides, yet managing to stand up for herself like a wasp fighting off a pride of lions. She started rushing towards her friend but Bulut was faster.

"I've got her," He told Sanem as he darted past. Sanem nodded, before raising her weapon as another of Yigit's men rushed his sword towards her neck. Their blades met, crashing together with a clang.  _There’s so many of them._

Ceycey was nowhere to be found. As instructed, he should be in the brow of the Albatross keeping out of trouble while simultaneously preparing to cause chaos. Her ship was in position, so they probably only had about a minute before he set the second part of her plan into action.

Sanem let her attacker push her towards the edge of the ship, closer towards the Albatross. Letting him think he was winning before dodging away from his next strike and kicking his backside as his momentum moved him past her, pushing him overboard.

"CEYCEY!" She was praying he would hear her over the clamour of battle.

A few heavy heartbeats later the gunports bordering the near side of the Albatross dropped open all at once, and in a mere second the deck under her feet lurched as a monstrous boom erupted in smoke and cannon fire. The shock of it rattled the whole ship.

"RETREAT!" She ordered her crew, darting towards her ship and jumping over the gap between the decks. A few of Yigit's men followed them over, and, after a brief scuffle, were either dead or kicked overboard. She grabbed onto Ayhan’s arm as she stumbled attempting to follow her brother across too.

Sanem took little time in calling for the black and purple sails of the Albatross to be let loose to the wind, carrying them swiftly out of reach of Yigit's men as they continued attempting to leap across. A few disappeared below deck to set up their own canons, but by the time they were ready the Albatross had already moved away to an angle their cannons could not reach.

"SANEM!" Yigit yelled, fuming, as his boat groaned and beams crunched under the now unbalanced weight of the hull, crippled by Ceycey's well-aimed shots. "SANEM!"

She watched his ship drown, his crew fumbling to release the lifeboats as the boat quickly took on water. They were hours from land by sailing, in those little paddle boats they'd be stranded out here for days. She found herself struggling to care. Sanem was not fond of killing, but today had been self defense, and if the rest of them died, technically,  _she_  wouldn't be killing him. The ocean would be.

"Goodbye, Yigit." She waved mockingly, as his men hauled him into a lifeboat.

Sanem turned away from the sinking wreckage, stepping towards the helm of the Albatross as it happily flew her crew away from the carnage of the Kızıl Yılan as it was swallowed by the sea.

She fished her prize out of her pocket, placing it onto the navigation table beside the wheel, brushing her hands over the paper and taking a few moments to memorize every page; every twist and trail, depictions of every pathway, annotations of every hidden trap. Before she took a stick of flint from her pocket, quickly dragging the blade of her knife down it's side, watching as sparks danced tentatively over the paper - before the whole thing erupted into flames. 

Sanem stood back, watching as the pages shriveled up into smoke. 


	5. A Letter

**Five Years Ago**

Sanem strolled along the path leading from the docks back to the village as she headed home at a lazy pace. The evening sun was still pleasantly warm against her skin. Patches of grey clouds hung in the distance - the rain had kept away despite their best threats.

It had been a good day. She'd had so few of those recently, amongst her mother's patronising lectures, the heavy weight of her father's disappointed eyes and the entirely unfair lack of support from her recently-wedded sister, she'd really needed to get away from it all. The six new additions to her sketchbook were surely worth the bombardment of shouting she was going to face when she returned home.

The book sat in her leather shoulder bag, filled with sketches of almost every type of winged creature she had ever seen, nestled in amongst an open letter and the groceries her mother had sent her to fetch that morning. It should have only been a seven-minute walk - somehow, it had turned into seven hours.

The letter contained the most recent reply from Sinan, that she had collected from the old post office in town after visiting the farmers market. She missed her friend. Missed the carefree days they'd spent as children together, running through the golden fields his parents had owned, playing games and pretending their divided futures didn't exist. It had all been so peaceful.

His leaving had torn an aching hole in her life, a hole she'd never really been able to fill again. He was in the city now - with friends his family actually approved of and a fiance they adored, studying at some university Sanem couldn't even pronounce. He still kept in contact, and for that she was grateful. Often eager to share what he'd learned, she had, on occasion, sent him some of her bird drawings, and he would reply with everything he knew about the species, or, when in doubt, everything he could find out. The names, both in her common tongue and in unfamiliar Latin, that had eventually become familiar even to the uneducated daughter of a baker.

The most recent letter had made her heart swell, he'd offered a proposal - for once, one she was actually happy to receive.

He wanted to publish a book, 'A Biologist's Guide To Birds', (the title seemed a bit ostentatious to Sanem) but his attempts to add annotations had fallen short of messy scribbles resembling those made by the hands of a three-year-old. Sanem's drawings were far more delicate and he had offered her royalties in exchange for the rights to use them in his publishing. She'd been giddy about it all day.

Despite the good news, the weight that had been saddled over her shoulders for the last few months began to return as the house came into view, along with the nagging feeling that she had forgotten something off her mother's list.

The house was old. Tired, cobbled walls held together by wooden beams and the staunch determination of her parent's marriage that was only a few years older than the building itself. It sat on the outskirts of the little village Sanem had grown up in and neighboring fields that rolled onto green farmland beyond.

The building was humble. Her parents were proud of their jobs, and deservedly so, but the income of a baker and a part-time seamstress allowed for little in the way of luxury. And even littler still since a misfortune of bad harvests and the war raging in Kapari, that had been sneaking ever closer, had triggered an increase in wheat tax, leaving her father scrambling for coins to provide food for a hungry village that could scarcely afford to pay any more than they were already. Her parents were struggling. It was the reason her sister had married one of the farmer's boy's in a rush, the reason for her mother's lectures and the reason Sinan's letter had brought her so much joy.

Her hopeful smile shattered as she stepped towards the house. Towards the sound of shouting.

Sanem yanked the bandaid off, pushing the door open to find her parent's mid row, they went silent for a moment when she stepped through the door. Anger clear on her mother's face and slight mournful pity on her father's as he slumped, defeated, into a chair beside the burning fireplace.

"Where the hell have you been?" Sanem's mother had always scolded her daughters off for cussing, but for once, apparently, the situation seemed to call for it. Mevkibe was furious. She'd been screaming back and forth with her husband for the last half an hour and Sanem was in no doubt that the recent outburst was going to be at least partially her fault.

"I was out," Sanem explained meekly. She didn't have the strength anymore to fight her mother when she was in one of her moods. "I got you what you asked for." Sanem emptied the contents of her bag onto the kitchen table, the groceries, along with her sketchbook.

"And you're sure you didn't perhaps forget anything? Something you were supposed to do today?" Her mother's glare was painful to look at. So she didn't.

Sanem wracked her brain. There was something, she'd felt it earlier, right at the back of her mind -

Oh...

Fuck.

It was Tuesday. Naoki was coming over today with his family to talk with Sanem and her parents, or at least, he was supposed to be, by the look of the setting sun outside the window, they'd probably long since been and gone.

"I forgot," Sanem whispered, pleaded.

"You forgot." Her mother repeated bluntly. "Of course you did, how convenient for you."

Sanem sighed, she hadn't done it on purpose. At least - not consciously. "I'm sorry anne, I'll make it up to you-"

"Make it up to me? Sanem, it's your own life you're running." Mevkibe tried to refrain from yelling again. "That was your last chance, you're last chance! You've already scared off all the available boys for miles around, and now you've insulted the last one who was willing to put up with you. Are you happy now?"

Honestly, she was. She tried not to let it show on her face. Naoki was a pleasant young man, if not a bit quiet and secluded, and he seemed to not mind the rumours flying around the village that Sanem dabbled in witchcraft. The Latin in her sketchbooks probably wasn't helping with that, nor the messy coloured, semi-feral cat she'd practically nursed back from the dead after it had been mauled by dogs a few months ago. Still, Sanem wasn't particularly keen on being married to a shepherd for the rest of her life.

"Allah, Sanem! What do you think you're going to do? We can't support you forever, who's going to look after you when we're gone?" Her mother took a deep breath. Nihat remained silent, watching the flames.

"I can look after myself." Sanem tried to sound strong but it didn't stop her mother's eyes from rolling. "I've been talking with Sinan... my drawings -"

"Your drawings?" Mevkibe scoffed, her voice rising as she picked up the sketchbook off the table. Seeing it in her mother's hands was making Sanem inexplicably nervous. "And how much money did we spend on this book just for you to fill it with useless sketches? You need to get your head out of the clouds, girl."

It happened in an instant. She heard herself screaming "NO!" so loud it almost hurt. But it was too late. Her mother's hand had already heartlessly thrown the book towards the fireplace, turning the closest thing to treasure she had ever owned into common kindling.

Sanem stared in horror at the flames dancing mercilessly over one of the only things she had ever really cared about, the  _only_  thing she had ever really been proud of. Five years of work entirely, greedily consumed by fire and turned to smoldering ashes in the few heartbeats it took her to make a decision.

She escaped to her room, not bothering to stop the door from slamming shut, curling up onto her bed and letting her tears fall into the fur of the black and ginger cat that had been sleeping there. The cat chirped in surprise, then began gently licking the tears off Sanem's face as her eyes turned red and puffy from sobbing.

"We have to leave here, Gypsy," Sanem whispered. She couldn't stay here anymore. She had to go, maybe try and seek out Sinan in the city, she could recreate her drawings. She could. She just needed time.

 

* * *

 

The dark evening embraced her long after the house had gone silent. She slipped out the front door, careful to close it behind her without making a noise, feeling a sense of relief when the door clicked quietly shut.

Suddenly burdened by a daunting sense of freedom, she wasn't entirely sure if she was making the most stupid decision of her life.

Sanem's eyes caught sight of the sparkling sky above her, the glowing moon sat so beautifully amongst a neighborhood of bright stars stretched over the stark blackness of the night sky. They were calm and welcoming as they flickered softly in greeting, such a pleasant change from being greeted by her parents. Sanem smiled, feeling the need to send a reply - they seemed so inviting. She wanted to follow them.

Sanem took a deep breath, setting off into the darkness with Gypsy tucked under one arm and all that remained of her world wrapped up in the bag hung over her shoulder. 


	6. Laes

**Five years ago**

Buried under darkness, glowing lanterns and the twinkling of candles illuminating the silhouette of cottage windows was all that remained of the view of Mahallat. It had been her home for nearly twenty-two years; a life that had begun so happily. Playing in the overgrown fields, along the docks overcast with chattering birds, in and around the golden beaches - all only a short distance beyond the village. Until necessity had brought her into her father's bakery where the rest of her childhood had slipped away working next to the heat of the ovens and the smell of freshly baked bread. She was well aware it could have been worse. Her parents had only ever done what they had to; now, Sanem was doing the same.

She walked until her feet hurt, and considering how much walking she'd already done that day, it happened far sooner than she would have liked. Gypsy trotted along beside her, ears pricked and tail held high, eyes gleaming under the reflections of the stars; it was not the first time they'd walked together from the house. But it would be the last.

Gypsy was without a doubt the scruffiest cat Sanem had ever seen. Not only because of her unkempt, bi-polar coat colour but also due to the myriad of scars she had been cursed with after an unfortunate encounter with a pair of excitable farm dogs. Sanem had been returning from visiting Leyla and her new husband at the farm when she had found the little cat, bloody and wobbling, at the edge of the property.

That had been nearly four months ago. Sanem had washed the blood away to reveal a black and ginger face that was actually quite endearingly cute. But the war wounds would remain forever - rips in her ears and a kink in her tail that couldn't quite agree on which direction it wanted to go in, so had formed a haphazard lightning bolt shape in compromise. Gypsy was remarkably friendly considering the trauma she'd been through, and the only real companion Sanem had since Leyla moved out. She'd been worried even that would be taken away; her parents had threatened to leave Gypsy in the river too many times after vehement arguments over when Sanem would finally marry. The scraggly cat was not helping with the rumours, or her prospects, Sanem was well aware - maybe that's why she'd been so insistent to keep her alive.

Sanem sighed. Wondering if her mother would be feeling guilty like she often did after their rows, if she'd be waking up to a cold, empty house with an apology heavy on her heart that she might never be able to give. Sanem shook her head, it wasn't even worth thinking about.

Her feet, having given up on her worn-out shoes, carried her barefoot towards Laes, a large town half a day's walk away. The port there was big enough that it prided its own trading route with Katiket - Ikara's capital city. Where she hoped to find her friend.

Sinan had a big family name, people would know him, all she would have to do was ask around, pretend to be a maid in his service or something. She could find him. Though what would happen when she did, she wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps she could permanently take up the disguise as a profession, not that she actually had any experience with being a maid but it seemed the only way she could gain permission to stay at his house long enough to recreate everything her mother had destroyed.

Royalties from her drawings may have felt like a small fortune in Mahallat but in the city, it would have scarcely afforded her a daily bowl of soup and a stable to sleep in. She would need Sinan's patronage for this to work. Then maybe, after it was done, she could return home with her earnings.

The thought made her pause. Was it really home anymore, would she even want to return afterward? Her heart reminded her of her sister, would she ever see her again?

Her scruffy, old cloak had been swaying gently around her ankles as she walked, but stilled as her feet slowed. It took her a few moments to become conscious of the fact that she'd even stopped. Gypsy blinked at her.

She could always come back in a few months if she needed to, but she had the feeling if she returned home now her confidence would disappear under a blanket of her mother's apologies and Leyla's begs to stay. Sanem took a deep breath, forcing her legs to start moving again.

The night had given into complete darkness by the time they came across a small, abandoned farm building, sat lonely at the edge of the dusty cart road. It was empty, dry and out of the chill, Sanem retreated inside, sitting against one of the stone walls and letting Gypsy curl up against her leg inside her dress and closing her eyes.

 

* * *

 

Sanem woke up hungry and shivering. Gypsy perched on the edge of a boarded-up windowsill, licking her lips after a breakfast of mice - it was in moments like these, that Sanem wished she were a cat. She dug into her bag, finding a few stale pieces of bread she had stashed there before leaving the house. The breakfast made her jaw hurt but it settled her stomach slightly.

She stood, sanding herself off before stepping back outside with the cat at her heels.

 

* * *

 

Laes was a chaotic place in comparison to her quiet, humble village. Bigger than she was used to too, full of people and noises and smells - not all of which were pleasant. People, carts, and hand-led animals moved through the streets in a rush, buyers haggled prices with street vendors and children chased each other through the alleyways. She moved Gypsy into her bag, worried she'd get lost or trampled in the bustle, a fate that Sanem was struggling to avoid herself. The excitement of the town was flowing through her bloodstream in all the wrong way - she'd been here before but never alone, her hands were shaking and her breathing unsteady. The buildings were too tall and the noises too loud. She lost track of the way to the docks as another person pushed roughly past her shoulder, she tightened her grip on her bag, wary of pickpockets.

Sanem ducked into a side alley. Leaning against the wall and closing her eyes as she gave herself a few minutes to breathe. This was beginning to feel remarkably stupid. How was she going to survive searching for Sinan in Katiket if walking through Laes brought her into a panic? Who was she to attempt to take on such an adventure? She felt like a tiny duckling, trying to cross a vast open ocean - foolish and entirely out of her depth.

Gypsy stuck her head out of the bag, reaching her nose out to touch Sanem's nervous hand as she watched her human with sympathy. Sanem blinked her eyes open at the contact, letting her senses transition back to her surroundings. She reached out to stroke behind Gypsy's ears.

"I'm okay," It wasn't just the cat she was promising. She could do this, she'd made it this far, and even ducklings could learn to fly eventually.

After her heart had stilled again, she followed the alleyway from the high street out onto a quieter road, the buildings were built slightly closer together here, prevent space for carriages and street vendors. It was almost peaceful.

She tucked Gypsy's head back into her bag, ignoring the cat's cries in protest at not being allowed to peek out at the view. She walked for a while towards the sound of seagulls, the noise was helping to calm her down and she hoped they would bring her towards the docks - towards a ship that would be willing to take her to Katiket.

A large, ornate building rose up on her right, standing taller than those around it and made of pretty white marble. A courthouse. It wasn't difficult to guess; a gavel plaque ornamented the space above the double oak doorway, overreached by the words Pax, Concordia, Iustitia.

"Peace, harmony, justice," Sanem whispered to herself. Curiosity drew her eyes and feet to where a collection of flyers and notices were nailed onto a board to the left of the entrance. Most seemed harmless. Advertisement for work down at the docks - of no use to her, women weren't allowed to work on ships (which was stupid, really). Another selling the services of a witch hunter - she was glad that despite the rumours, her village had been too loyal to ever turn in one of their own to the authorities. The thought pained her, it almost felt like betraying them to leave.

She sighed, her eyes catching onto something more interesting - a wanted poster. For the captain of the Kotu Kral. Most of the others pinned on the board were accompanied by sketches of the faces of those in question, this one had an ominous blank space in the middle where the picture should have been. Few had ever seen his face and lived to tell the tale, but almost everyone over the whole of the eastern sea new his name.

Names are sneaky things. Passed between gossiping lips they can travel for miles in every direction, from infamy or adoration, it makes little difference. Can Divit's name was familiarly woven into children's nightmares, in teenagers idle dreams and in parent's cautious warnings not to stray too far from home. It had even crept all the way to Ikara, a place most pirates tended to leave alone - there were much richer countries nearby.

She didn't know the specifics, but she knew enough to know that his ship, the Kotu Kral, was part of a small armada of four. Not an intimidating number - but with how fragile pirate alliances could be, an allegiance that large was almost unheard of, and had permitted a reputation as one of the most feared and ruthless gangs currently roaming the seas. A fact that was reflected in his capture reward.

Metaphorically speaking, if the ocean had a sovereignty, then Can Divit was it's crowned prince. And no honest man had ever made a good pirate. He was rumoured to have more kills under his belt than Katiket's own executioner.

 

* * *

 

As she'd hoped, the gull's crude singing led her to the docks. Though perhaps to call it so was to do the place an injustice; in truth it was more of a wharf, deep enough to fit even the bigger ships alongside the stone jetties. The small harbour near her village permitted space for only one ship to rival in size with these, and even then it had to be left a way of shore and loaded up by tottering the paddle boats back and forth from the slipway.

Most of the others were small. Fishing vessels with a tangle of netting sat drying on their decks, they smelled briny as she wanted past, the scent familiar in a comforting way. Memories danced through her mind; early mornings spent playing with her sister in her uncle's boat, before the men set out for the day's catch and the girls were relinquished back onto dry land. Sanem had always wished she could sail out with them, just once. But he'd died before she'd ever been brave enough to ask.

One ship, sat in the deepest part of the harbour away from the stone walls of the dock, towering over the others both in size and majesty, painted with the king's colours and flaunting more gun ports than she could count. Sanem stood in awe of it for a few minutes, she'd never seen a ship like this before.  _What was it doing here?_

She turned her eyes back in search of the ship she was looking for, a trading vessel, something medium-sized but sturdy - designed to brave stormy waves and long-distance voyages. One of these was bound to be heading for the city - she just had to ask around.

Most of the ships sat idle on the water, their sailors gifted the opportunity to disappear into the local tavern for a few hours. Only one was occupied, its crew milling around like ants around a nest, carrying boxes, barrels, and bags on and off the ship.

Sanem prepared herself, practicing the words in her mind as she approached one of the men.

She'd never particularly attempted to talk to an ant before, but she imagined it would have gone quite the same way. He all but ignored her, walking past, giving her only the briefest of glances as she began to speak, before he continued without pause, rolling a wooden barrel up the gangplank and onto the ship.

 _Rude_ , she thought. She tried again. And again. Becoming more and more frustrated and more and more mortified as the sailors continued to ignore her - an older man sat on a bench nearby, watching her as he ate his lunch, humour in his eyes as she failed yet again to catch the attention of another apologetic man as he moved towards the ship carrying large hessian bags over his shoulders.

Sanem let her hands fall onto the top of her head with a groan.

"Where is it you're wanting to get to my lady?" The man on the bench had approached her, his voice friendly and polite but buried under an accent she couldn't quite distinguish. His formality made her blush. She'd never been called a lady before.

"Katiket," She replied.

"Well, you'd probably be best giving up on this lot. They're from down south - won't understand a word your saying. And I also happen to know they aren't heading where you want to go." He still had a hint of amusement in his eyes but the lines on his face creased in a friendly way when he smiled at her. "Perhaps I can help. I work on The Wigeon," He pointed to one of the medium-sized boats docked at the edge of the harbor. "We're heading to Katiket this evening, I'm sure my boss won't mind havin' an extra onboard."

"I can pay," She offered.

"No need for that," He waved his hand as she began to reach into her bag in search of coins. "We'd be going with or without ye, so makes no difference to us to have a guest."

"Oh, thank you." She hadn't expected it to be that easy.

"Of course." He smiled. "And your little friend is more than welcome too." He watched her blank expression for a few moments before pointing to her bag. "That little cat of yours has been poking its head out every five minutes. Curious little thing. My daughter used to have one of those -"

He kept talking, introducing himself as Bata. He seemed friendly and his eyes turned warm as he spoke about his daughter. He stopped chatting after a while, noticing a few familiar faces heading towards the Wigeon. "Here, follow me and we'll see about getting you passage." 

 

 


	7. The Wigeon

**Five years ago**

The Wigeon was a cozy little ship, Bata explained that they traded in spices between a few of the cities in and around Ikara. Bata, it turned out, was the brother of the ship's commander - It didn't take long for Bata to convince him to let Sanem on board, and by the time they'd finished loading the last few goods onto the ship they were ready to set off.

Despite her best attempts, Sanem had never managed to get out to sea before. The breeze was salty and the sky a pretty, clear blue, the land shrunk further and further into the distance as the boat sailed away out onto a calm sea. Bata kept her company, the others didn't seem keen to talk as they set to work around the boat. Her new friend offered to show her around, keeping her occupied by teaching her the names of the sails and demonstrating how to tie the mast lines into place with various different knot patterns.

 

* * *

 

Sanem sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the deck, Gypsy sat beside her - having faced an unusual desire to stay in Sanem's bag for most of the journey so far. Bata walked towards her with two bowls of potato broth in his hands as he joined them. The little cat bristled as he got closer.

Sanem shushed her. "Sorry, she's not normally like this."

"Ah, it's alright. Little thing probably just needs to get her sea legs a bit." He handed her one of the bowls.

"Thank you,"

"No worries," He smiled, handing her a wooden spoon. "We should be in Katiket by nightfall."

They ate in companionable silence. The panic Sanem had faced early that day had melted away almost entirely now, she could do this - she was only a few hours away from Katiket. Duckling or not, she had gotten this far all on her own and the hardest part was almost over. Sanem smiled.

"What?" Bata asked fondly, noticing the expression on her face.

"Nothing." She took another sip of soup, stilling suddenly as she felt her cheeks turn cold and pale.

"Alright there, little lady?" Bata asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I just feel a bit..." She didn't know how to describe it, her stomach seemed to be protesting the food and her head was spinning slightly.

"Ah, my apologies. I should have warned you..." He frowned. "Eating can be the best way to set off seasickness in those not used to life on a ship. It might help to sit below deck for a while."

He took her hand, helping her stand up before leading her into a small cabin and providing her with a bucket. 'For emergencies', he explained.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything." He promised, closing the door.

Sanem sat on the bed with her head in her hands, waiting for the wobbling behind her eyes to stop and trying to avoid throwing up. The seas were turning rougher here and her head felt so unbalanced that it was almost as if the room were turning upside down every few minutes. Gypsy watched her nervously.

 

* * *

 

Sanem wasn't sure how much time had passed when she woke, disturbed by what sounded like shouting coming from upstairs. Her head had cleared, she couldn't recall having fallen asleep but the light coming in through the little window had dimmed, suggesting it was already evening. Heavy footsteps sounded against the floorboard above her as men rushed about the ship.  _Have we arrived?_

The shouting upstairs suddenly became more panicked, she felt the ship turn sharply as the sails were tacked around in a rush, Sanem grabbed onto the bed frame to stop herself from stumbling as she attempted to stand. Only a second later she heard blood-curdling screaming, followed by a thunderous boom as the Wigeon lurched viciously to the side. The sound of splitting wood and the ship groans echoed underneath her feet.  _What the Devil's hell was that?_

The door flew open. Bata stood wide-eyed in front of her. "Ma'am, you need to hide we've been boarded by -"

Sanem watched in horror as a sword appeared through his stomach, killing the words on his tongue in a choked gasp in the time it took Sanem's panicked squeal to begin and end. She jumped back in shock as her friend's body collapsed to the floor in a sickening thump. Her eyes looked up from the blood seeping across the floorboards, it was making bile rise in her throat, but the view in front of her wasn't any better. Two ragged-looking men stood blocking the doorway, wearing scruffy and unkempt clothing, one now holding a blood-covered sword in his hands as he met her terrified gaze.

Only two words came to mind, the first swimming around her foggy brain in a cowering whisper.  _Pirates, Pirates, Pirates._ The second following the first, equally terrified but with a pinch of uncivilized indignancy.

_Fuck._

 

* * *

 

They didn't kill her straight away. For that she didn't know if she was more shocked or grateful. They dragged her upstairs, one of them keeping a fierce hold on her arm as they led her out onto the deck of the Wigeon - now in the ominous shadow of a red and gold sail attached to an unfamiliar ship hitched up alongside the boat she'd been so happily hidden inside of. The Wigeon's sailors had disappeared, blood-splattered floorboards the only trace of them left. Sanem gulped.

Her captors shoved her slightly, marching her past their own men as they ransacked the trading vessel, towards where a plank had been settled into the gap between the two ships. It passed her mind for a moment, in desperation to find a way to escape, that she should just jump into the water below, but she'd never been very good at swimming and her dress would probably way her down - down all the way to the bottom of the ocean - but maybe drowning would be the better option. It seemed more peaceful in comparison to the horrid imagines rushing through her head. But they pushed her past before she could wrestle up the courage.

Sanem wasn't sure where the nerve suddenly came from. She should have been scared, terrified, but the fear was slowly giving way to a fury that blazed through her veins and set her eyes sharp as daggers.

Why? Why was it that every time something good happened to her it had to be taken away in smothering flames or cannon fire? She'd been so close. Everything had been going so well, and now she'd been captured by bloody pirates. Pirates who were mercilessly pushing her towards the helm of their ship. God was playing a colossal joke with her - a game - and she wanted to play back. Perhaps it was the fear making her giddy; the certainty that she was about to die making her reckless, the tight grip around her arm pissing her off. Whatever the reason she found it hard to stop herself, though she was sure a second after saying it that it was going to get her killed.

"Get the fuck off of me!" She hissed. Violently twisting her arm out of her captor's grip. It hurt a bit, but at least he let go, and at least he actually looked surprised.

The kerfuffle caught the attention of some of the men nearby, one in particular, standing slightly taller than the others and with an undeniable air of authority about him that nearly had Sanem cowering again. The captain, she assumed. He stood watching her, a curious frown on his face, a fearsome sword in his hands, albeit held somewhat lazily and pointed towards the ground. Wearing clothes that didn't resemble what she'd expected from a pirate captain but where still fancier than what most of the other men were wearing, dark hair let partially down and loose in the breeze, with arms that could easily rival those of an Anagian war god. Sanem tried not to stare.

"Where did you find this one?" He asked lightheartedly, indicating his sword towards her, though he didn't seem that surprised, as if he'd been expecting to find a stowaway.

"Hidden downstairs." The man on her left replied simply.

Sanem set her jaw. "I  _have_  a name."  _Shut up, just shut up, you're just making it worse!_

The captain raised his eyebrows as if amused by her audacity, watching her for a few heartbeats with hazel eyes. "And that would be?" He asked with a slight smirk.

"Sanem," She insisted, crossing her arms. "My name is Sanem."  _Shut up!_

He observed her again for a slow moment before replying. "Sanem,"

She had always thought of it as a soft name, pretty and delicate on the tongue - but somehow, in his voice, deep and husky, he'd manage to make it sound rough despite how gently he'd said it. She tried to convince herself the blush in her cheeks was from anger.

"Nice to meet you." He finished, cocking his head slightly.

She waited, growing uncomfortable under his gaze as it lingered a little too long. Why weren't they killing her? The fire in her eyes was burning out, and their standoff was drawing a curious crowd, she didn't think she could maintain this attitude for much longer. "And you are?"

He smiled again, glancing down to the ground for a second in a way that almost appeared bashful. His eyes still seemed amused, but this time it didn't feel tampered by arrogance. She wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Since you asked so  _politely._ " He said mischievously. "My name is Can Divit - and welcome to the Kotu Kral." He indicated proudly behind him, as the blood in her veins turned to ice. 

 

 


	8. The Kotu Kral

**Five years ago**

_I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die._

Sanem had never really thought much about  _how_  it would happen, she knew that eventually - naturally - it would, the inevitable and unavoidable fate of being alive. But to be slaughtered by a band of savage pirates was definitely not something she would have guessed if she'd been asked the question a week ago. Now, it had jumped straight to the top of her list.

She closed her eyes tightly shut, hoping that when she opened them again she would realise that the last ten, horrifying minutes of her life had simply been a fever-induced dream. That she would wake up on her bed in the Wigeon with Gypsy asleep against her arm and hear the call from Bata that they'd arrived safely at Katiket.

Instead, she blinked them open to find that the image of her friend, a sword through his stomach and blood dribbling from his chin, had branded itself onto the inside of her eyelids. It nearly made her want to throw up again.

 

* * *

 

The cocky smile that had been dancing over his face disappeared as Can noticed the immediate change in her eyes. With the mention of his name, gone was the feisty, little brunette that had just landed on the deck of his ship like a scrappy and angered kitten. Now she looked more like a baby rabbit that had just accidentally wandered into the darkness of a wolf's den, wide-eyed and trembling.

He felt slightly guilty but he also couldn't help being amused by her sudden change in tone, he'd never meant to frighten her. But she was an inlander. He'd had little experience socializing with non-pirates over the last few years but he was well aware of the stories and tales those living on dry land liked to whisper about him, it was clear on her face his name she was one she was familiar with. And for all the wrong reasons.

Perhaps he should have made a more gentle introduction if the slight shaking of her hands and the paleness in her cheeks was anything to go by. It was not the reaction he was used to, nor the reaction he tended to hope for when introducing himself to women for the first time, especially to those with such pretty, honey-brown eyes.

He nodded towards the two men that had brought her to him, dismissing them to join the others unloading the contents of the Wigeon.

 

* * *

 

Sanem noticed the exchange, tensing up, expecting to feel the grip around her arm return again. She was shocked when they didn't, leaving her free on the deck in the company of their Captain.

Can stepped towards her.

She stumbled back, her eyes flashing with fear.

"Relax okay, we're not going to hurt you." He sounded sincere, but Sanem couldn't help glancing towards the red-stained sword in his hands. He and his men had just heartlessly murdered a whole crew of innocent sailors, what was one more casualty to them?

"Just like you didn't hurt Bata?" She pointed out meekly. "Or the others?" It was beginning to occur to her that their bodies had most likely been callously thrown overboard and would be floating facedown in the water - food for the sharks.

The captain - Can, she reminded herself - retreated a step back again, noticing his sword, before slowly placing it on the ground as if to not startle her.

Sanem nervously fidgeted with her own hands as his men continued moving around them, taking what they wanted, or needed from the Wigeon as it succumbed to the cannon holes in its hull, slowly swelling with the weight of water.

Her eyes fell back to Can as he did something she hadn't expected. He sat down, a distance away from where he'd placed his sword, on the wooden floorboards of the ship, crossing his legs and indicating with a polite pat of his hand for her to join him.

 

* * *

 

He refrained from smiling at the endearingly confused look on her face at his display of amity, but after a few minutes of perplexed yet careful consideration she slowly joined him anyway, though she sat slightly further away than he would have liked and sat perched on her knees as if she might dart back onto her feet from the slightest wrong move.

"We're not going to hurt you." He repeated. She still didn't seem to believe him but at least the baby rabbit behind her eyes had disappeared. It might take some convincing for the scrappy kitten to return though, he'd have to be gentle.

 

* * *

 

Sanem was certain this was one of the strangest things she'd ever experienced; being invited by a pirate to sit cross-legged on the floor of his ship, as if it was an offer to settle down for a pleasant, imaginary tea party.  _Well, this might as well be happening._

"Hi," He greeted softly.

She replied slowly, still unsure of his intentions, her eyes narrowing. "Hi..."

 

* * *

 

It wasn't a surprise, really, that she would be so skittish while surrounded by a hoard of weapon-wielding pirates, perhaps he should even the playing field. He carefully, slowly, pulled out a letter knife from his pocket. It was old and small but it was sharp enough to make her eyes go wide and her legs to tense up as he placed it on the ground in front of him, sliding it calmly towards her, hilt first. She stared at it.

"Take it," He offered. "If it'll make you feel more at ease." He smiled, outwardly polite and inwardly wondering if she was aware of the unintentional meaning behind the gesture. He doubted it, it was a pirate tradition after all.

She picked it up, holding it delicately at an inexperienced angle so as not to hurt herself with the blade, letting her hands fall into her lap.

"Why did you kill them?" She asked, her voice slightly stronger.

 

* * *

 

She watched him, an answer forming slowly in his mind. Did pirates even need a reason for killing? She prepared for his explanation in her mind.  _Because we could. Because we wanted to._  So why hadn't they killed her yet?

"Sanem," He said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "Where did you think they were taking you to?"

She wasn't all that keen to tell him, but the situation couldn't really get much worse than it already was. She was stuck here now. Silence was always an option but he'd spoken so softly she found herself replying before she'd really had the chance to choose to stay quiet. "Katiket."

He raised an eyebrow. "Katiket? In Ikara?"

Sanem nodded.

"And where did they pick you up?" He wondered.

She was even more reluctant to answer that question. "Laes."

 

* * *

 

Can took a deep breath, he knew the Wigeon, knew that it was no innocent little duck - it was a vulture down to its very core. He'd been adamantly hunting it down for months. But he couldn't just tell her that, she wouldn't trust him, she needed to work it out on her own.

"And they told you they were going straight there?" He knew the answer before she even nodded. Being a pirate, Can was fortunate in being well-traveled. He wasn't intimately familiar with the country but he knew it well enough to know that the trip should have taken no more than four hours traveling directly across the coastline with a favorable wind guiding the sails. Yet the Wigeon was currently drowning almost five hours out into the open ocean. Halfway across the Eastern channel.

Her face fell when he explained this, the colour seeping out of her cheeks.

"I can promise you sweetheart, wherever they were taking you, it was never going to be Katiket." He knew exactly where they were most likely taking her. But it was better that she didn't.

"I don't understand," She stuttered. "Bata was my friend, they are just - were just spice traders."

"And would we be pillaging a ship full of spices?" He prompted, watching as she glanced towards the goods they were unloading from the Wigeon. Can waved one of his men over as he passed carrying a lidded box, Can stood, taking it out of the man's arms.

"Can I?" He asked, pointing to the knife Sanem was holding after she followed him to her feet. She handed it over somewhat reluctantly but he soon gave it back after carefully prying the lid off the box and presenting its contents to her.

"What is it?" She looked like she was still hoping to find a stash of dried spices, seeds and roots. Instead, she was confronted with a collection of cushioned glass vials filled with an ominous black liquid.

"This particular one - a delightful little concoction called Widow's Dream I believe." He answered, watching confusion dull her eyes. "It's a poison, Sanem."

"Poison?"

"Yeah. They can fetch a good price on the black market if you know where to sell." The Wigeon traded in lives, in more ways that one.

Sanem still seemed reluctant to believe him. "But... he was so kind."

"Let me guess, he offered you free passage, a comfortable place to sleep and something to eat?" He'd heard that story too many times.

She nodded so softly it would have gone unnoticed if he hadn't been paying close attention.

 

* * *

 

Could it be true? Had Bata really been deceiving her the whole time? She stepped closer, taking one of the vials and unscrewing the cork cap off the top. Can watched her carefully.

She was too fearful to bring it close to her nose, but even from a distance, there was something unarguably familiar about its scent. She'd smelt that earlier, tasted it too, simmered in amidst a bowl of potatoes and vegetables. The realisation made her heartache, thank god she'd never finished the bowl, no wonder she'd gotten woozy all of a sudden. Ugh, she felt like such a naive fool, trusting the first bright-faced and smiley person she'd come across in a town full of people with imperfect intentions. Sanem had become too distracted, lulled by talks about his daughter and her cat... Her cat.

"Gypsy." She whispered, dropping the vial back into the box, her eyes darting towards the smaller ship as the last of Can's men returned back onto the Kotu Krall. The Wigeon was going down.

 

* * *

 

Can noticed the sudden change in her demeanor, the panic was back. "Um, I'm not a gypsy, I'm a pirate. There is a difference, and I'm pretty sure that term is technically derogatory -"

"No," She insisted. "Gypsy's my cat." Her legs moved her towards the gangplank - towards the sinking ship.

"I really wouldn't recommend doing that," He pushed the box back into the arms of the man standing closest to him. Grabbing Sanem's arm just above the elbow and pulling her back towards safety a moment before the bridge slipped down the widening crevasse between the two ships.

She wriggled against his grip, a new kind of fear swimming in her eyes, one that he hadn't seen before.

"Please," She begged.

The unbearably heartbroken look in her eye forced him to make up his mind in mere seconds. "Where?"

"Under the stairs, in a little room to the left." If by some miracle she hadn't already run to hide somewhere else, there wouldn't be time to search the whole boat.

 

* * *

 

She watched, astounded, as Can leaped across the space between the two ships, landing with a thump against the deck of the Wigeon that was now sitting considerably lower down than its neighbor.

Her breathing stopped, her heart feeling as if it had frozen still for the agonizingly long minute it took for him to emerge again. He returned just in time, jumping back across with Gypsy under one arm, just before the gap became impossible.

The little cat seemed entirely undisturbed. Purring up a bloody storm and staring at her saviour all googly-eyed like she did when she was hungry and Sanem happened to be in the midst of plucking the feathers off a chicken for dinner. Worry vanishing from her veins, she stepped forward to meet them, gaping slightly in astonishment at her cat's behavior.  _Gypsy, you absolute flirt._

"Thank you," She breathed, as Can handed over the fury damsel in distress. Sanem tried not to be offended at the cat's attempts to wriggle back towards him, she held on tighter.

"Don't mention it," He smiled, his eyes warm, and for the first time, Sanem found herself smiling back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a little comment if you are enjoying, it would make my day :D


	9. Silver Knives And Pirate Cities

The Albatross may have been small, but it held a certain sense of soulfulness that Sanem had never felt from any other ship, perhaps it was simply due to the fact it was  _hers,_ due to the fact she intimately knew every thread of rope in the rail lines, every inch of creaking floorboards, and every salt rusted rail holding the hull together _._ She was certain the vessel had a mind of its own at times, in moments like these when the sails would drop so easily, eagerly catching hold of any trace of wind it could find to carry its crew away from those that threatened to do them harm. It could be equally stubborn at times. For the sake of her reputation, she attempted to refrain from yelling and swearing at her boat in the instances where it refused to cooperate.

Sanem could almost feel its quietening heart beating under her feet as she retreated to her cabin, calming down now that the battle was won. Though perhaps it was just the echo of her own bloodstream.

Her quarters sat tucked under the raised platform of the helm, encased behind a set of sturdy oak doors that also provided entrance to the navigation office to the left and Deren's own modest quarters on the right. Though 'modest' was no the term Deren herself would have used.

Just like Sanem's ship, her room was small. But it was cozy.

A double bed took up most of the space, pushed into a corner as far as it would go to make room for a small desk, currently housing a haphazard pile of her cherished sketchbooks, jammed into the space between the foot of the bed frame and the large window overlooking the tail end of the ship. She could see the remains of the Kızıl Yılan through the salt-stained glass as the Albatross sailed away. The triumphant smile on her face didn't seem to want to leave her cheeks.

Sanem opened a thin door to the left of her room - a wardrobe. Intending to change out of her now tattered green dress into her nightgown, but was instead startled by the sound of a still unfamiliar, surprised yowl.

Bandit had been living on the ship for less than a day, Sanem still wasn't used to having the presence of a cat on board again so when she heard his noise, almost like a reflex, her heart subconsciously expected to see a little black and ginger face gazing back at her.

Instead, she was comforted by the yellow glow of Bandit's eyes, the rest of his body blending in with the wardrobe's shadows like an Anaigan void demon - though perhaps a particularly soft and small version.

"Good. You're still alive." Sanem greeted the little, certified rat catcher. A pirate's cat sensible enough to hide from the sound of cannon fire and clashing swords was always a good thing.

He cautiously stepped out from where he'd been hidden amongst a pile of her clothes (disguises mostly) with bristled shoulders and a spiked tail. But he didn't seem too startled by the recent commotion and the ruckus of battle, his forehead met her shin in greeting before he confidently jumped up to curl himself on top of her bedding before staring at her with expectant eyes, his chin resting on his front paws as he blinked at her.

Sanem shimmied out of the dress, emptying the pockets onto her desk before tucking the garment into the wardrobe. Her eyes caught sight of the mini chest hidden on a shelf at an arm's reach above her. It was where she kept their money, what little was left of it anyway. The trip for supplies in Touson would have to be their last for a while with the pitiful weight of gold that remained. Hopefully, god willing, whatever was hidden inside Black Water Cavern would keep them going for a few months longer (possibly years if the rumours were true), or else they might  _actually_  have to resort to piracy. She'd rather not do that.

Sanem changed, before moving to sit next to Bandit at the end of the bed, the floorboards creaking under her bare feet as she did so. Thoroughly checking her bedding for hidden rats; it wasn't that she harboured any real hated for the little creatures. She just preferred them when they were dead.

She finally sat, taking a few quiet minutes to meticulously clean the little, silver dagger that had saved her life more times than was fair, as she watched the sun settle confidently above the watery edge of the horizon.

The knife's handle had taken months to feel balanced and comfortable in her hands when she'd first started practising with it. After her initial, embarrassing failures to move naturally with a sword it had been gifted to her, what felt like a lifetime ago. She was small, a smaller weapon would suit her better.

The sentiment had been heartfelt and well-founded. She preferred using a knife, felt that her body moved more instinctively with it as if it were an extension of her arm she had been born with. Like her ship, she preferred to be sneaky and quiet, to hold others ransom with the lightweight blade against the exposed skin of their neck, to put the fear of God into them while being in complete control of whether she actually hurt them or not.

The white hilt had been purposefully carved with the silhouette of flying birds, simple yet pretty patterns engraved along the metal of the blade too. Lethal enough to draw blood with the slightest brush of a finger along its shining edge.

She loved her little knife. But she hated it too, in a way. Hated the heavy memories that would forever be tied to it, that had, on occasion, made practising with it feel sluggish from the weight of too many thoughts demanding attention in her mind. The knife was sharp, but the memories were sharper. They'd left scars over her heart that had never quite beaten right since. Pain seeping into the holes where her loved ones had once been, the family she had abandoned back on in Malhalat; Sinan, who probably assumed and long since accepted she was most likely dead. And Can -

Can...

Well, that one hurt the most.

Sanem sighed, setting the dagger down on the table again, picking up the remainder of her toys and twiddling them in her hands as a distraction. Her little spark maker was her favourite, it was a handy little thing. There were few safe ways of starting fires on a ship built from overly eager and highly flammable wood. Ceycey had attempted to invent a little contraption using cannon gunpowder, but it had proven a little too explosive for her needs and was still in need of refinement.

The first time she had burnt a treasure map in line of sight of Ceycye he had screamed bloody murder at her seemingly blatant and unbothered attempts to destroy everything they had been working so adamantly for months to find. The rest of the crew had remained undisturbed by the destructive habits of their captain. They were used to it.

It was an insurance policy of sorts, a technique she had mastered years ago with the help of an old friend. By permanently storing the map and it's hand-written guide into her mind she'd just made herself undeniably valuable. Not only could she now prevent anyone else from getting their thieving hands on the directions but she had also secured a bargaining chip for herself should the Albatross get into trouble before they had the chance to explore the cavern. Hurting her would be hurting the one and only remaining opportunity to discover what was hidden inside, treasure maps were precious, and she had just turned  _herself_  into one. She was untouchable. And by affiliation, so we're the rest of her crew. It had come in handy on more than one occasion and had saved her life more times than she could count on one hand.

Eventually, Ceycey had learned not to scream when she so  _eagerly_  let the maps burst into flames.

Unfortunately, Ayhan had not.

Sanem's ears were still ringing from the noise.

The siblings had been sheepishly milling around on the main deck of the Albatross, unsure what to do with themselves as the rest of Sanem's crew quickly set to work about the boat.

Ayhan's eyes had gone wide when she noticed the flames, and even wider when the realised what Sanem was burning.

"WHAT THE DEVILS HELL ARE YOU DOING?" She had yelled, dashing up the staircase towards the ship's helm and over to the table where the book was now nothing more than blackened ash, her attempts to salvage remains proved futile. "We just all risked our lives to get that bloody book! Why, why would you do that?"

Sanem had blinked at her. It wasn't often she got yelled at, she'd almost become unfamiliar with the feeling.

She didn't trouble herself with a proper answer to the younger girls question. Letting out a sarcastic 'whoops,' before she headed down from the helm towards the main deck.

It wasn't something that could be easily explained. Only witnessed. And her patience had been drained and her legs turned wobbly from lack of sleep. She hadn't been able to recall how many hours she'd been awake at that point but if the stinging in her eyes was any indication, it had been far too long. The excitement of the last few hours had been enough to keep her veins buzzing long enough to get out alive but by now she felt like a ship that had just found itself out the other end of a storm, sat on eerily calm waters with limp sails.

Ayhan was left staring at the ashes as Sanem stepped down from the helm and waved Deren over, instructing her to get 'those two', pointing towards Osman and his sister, settled onto the ship.

"I want us to be in Touson by tomorrow," Their supplies wouldn't last long, especially not now that they had two extra mouths to feed. They wouldn't have time to get to the cavern first "I'm going to bed and I will personally murder anyone who tries to disturb me."

Deren had nodded, aware there was no real heat behind the threat. "Ay, Captain,"

 

* * *

 

The Albatross sailed under the rise and fall of two more suns before it arrived at its destination under the murky cover of night. Though they hadn't needed to.

Touson, technically a country in itself, was actually no bigger than a large city. A country that had once been a lawful place - a fact most of the locals found amusing.

It had been founded after an ill-advised declaration of independence - cursing itself to a lifetime of political isolation from its bitter neighbours. Partly sensing an opportunity, but largely from complete and utter desperation, the city had warmly opened its arms (and its port) to the defilement of the black market. And naturally, like flies to a rotting corpse, pirates had descended in hoards to haggle their merchandise or even to settle down amongst the locals until there was almost no trace left of the original Tousonian bloodline.

That had been over two hundred years ago. The City of Anarchy, as it became known, despite being ostracized from the rest of the world, had continued to grow in wealth and size, the bones of which had outgrown the land it sat on and had begun spilling out onto the water. Half of the city kept out of reach of the high tide by a foundation of wooden beams, wonky bridges and an innate stubbornness that seemed to breathe through every part of the old port town.

Yet despite its chaotic reputation, it was one of the few places that managed to host pirates and their ships with relative harmony. To sail here was to voluntarily raise a white flag, a rare place where captains would put aside their differences and allow themselves to drink to a strange sense of comradery. If the realm of pirates had a Switzerland, then its name was Touson.

 

* * *

 

After waking, many hours later, Sanem opened her wardrobe to dig out the attire she was more familiar with. She loved dresses. But, as yesterday had proven, they were not the most practical thing for pirating in. Instead, she stepped into her usual dark breeches, tucked into tall, leather boots. Pulling over her head a loose-fitting, frilly cotton shirt, rolling the sleeves loosely up to her elbows. Before tying into an embellished, leather waist cincher that doubled as an accessory  _and_  a lightweight form of armour. Even the sharpest of blades had difficulty digging through the layers of dark-brown animal hide. She'd learned that lesson through experience.

It was fashionable, for a pirate. But it was also perfect for murdering in should the need arise. Allowing her limbs enough freedom to move without confinement, to grab the dagger from her belt at a moment's notice.

Sanem perched Bandit on her shoulder before finishing off her outfit, slipping her feathered tricorn hat to sit over the top of her braided hair as she glanced at her dim reflection in the windows at the back of her room. She smiled. Now she looked like a captain again.

Ceycey greeted her with a sarcastic 'good morning' as she emerged through the oak doors onto the deck; the sun had already long since set. Sanem returned him a playful sneer before leaning over the taffrail to look out at the assemblage of pirate ships moored up along the calm coastline bordering Touson as the Albatross approached. The sight that would normally have been terrifying now just looked like a group of napping ducks on the surface of a pond. She scanned the horizon, her eyes checking the colours of their furled sails for any she recognised. She smiled when she noticed the infamous red and gold she'd been dreading was missing. Nearly two years had passed since she'd last set eyes on the Kotu Kral, she prayed to every sea god she knew of that her luck would continue.

But, unbeknownst to Sanem, she had been keeping an eye out for entirely the wrong ship. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you are enjoying! They make me smile soooo much :)


	10. Touson

__

_ I love you. And I will always love you. Like the tide loves the sand, like the moon loves the sun, like winter loves the promise of warmth and like the cold rain loves the bright blue sky. You will always be a heartbroken moment out of reach and I am sorry we can not be together.  _

 

* * *

 

The Albatross sailed lazily into port as Sanem set to work organising her crew. Before diving into the city, they needed a comprehensive list of everything that the ship and its sailors might require over the next few months; food, weapons, gunpowder, cloth to repair the sails should they get damaged (again). She hoped her purse would cover everything. They could always resort to fishing if the rations ran out too soon, it wouldn't have been the first time. But Deren had a tendency to get irritable when living on fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner for weeks on end, and Sanem would rather avoid that. 

She noticed Osman standing near the brow of the ship, gazing out at the glowing lights of the shoreline as the ship approached, he seemed lost in thought as the warm evening breeze left gentle ruffles in the sleeves of his t-shirt. 

“You okay?” She asked, walking over, her own arms folded in what she hoped was a non-threatening manner. A bruise over his eye was forming from where she’d so  _ kindly _ knocked him out a few days ago, the sight of it made her wince.

He looked up, slightly startled. “Uh, yeah.” His eyes returned to the port in front of them - still wide awake despite the growing darkness. 

“You can leave if you want, you know,” Sanem offered with a calming smile. “I’m not going to hold you captive here, we’re not all like Yigit. Some of us are actually nice."

Osman nodded faintly, though he didn’t give a reply. 

Sanem left him be, wondering if she would return back to her ship later to find that the siblings had vanished. It was their choice. She wouldn’t take that away from them. 

Returning to her cabin for a few minutes, she pulled her cloak onto her shoulders before fetching the handful of gold coins they had left, along with a letter that had been sitting on her desk for the last few hours. The ink was dry now. 

Bulut caught her arm as she slipped back out of her room, having hidden discreetly in the shadows of the hallway, but it wasn’t her he’d been hiding from. 

"Can we talk?" He asked. 

"Sure," Sanem agreed, noticing the calm tremble in his hands. "You alright?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine." He glanced behind him as if checking to see whether anyone was around to overhear. "I wanted to talk to you about Deren." 

Sanem fought of a knowing grin. "Alright." She'd been expecting this conversation for a while. He'd been taking his time. 

"I wanted to ask your permission, as captain, to uh..." He stalled, the words catching nervously in his throat.

"Propose?" She raised an eyebrow, finally giving into a smile. As captain it was her more than happy responsibility to officiate weddings amongst members of her crew, it was a tradition as ancient as sailing itself, but she’d only had the opportunity to do it once before. 

"Yeah," He smiled back bashfully, the shyness sitting unfamiliarly on his face. 

"How?" She asked. Rings were always an option, but they didn't have as much of a kick when hidden amongst a hand already embezzled with jewellery, and they weren't very traditional amongst sailor folk. 

"The proper pirate way - with a gifted dagger." He smiled at her as if to say 'of course.' "And I know what Deren's like, she wouldn't be fond of an ornamental, useless one, she'd want something practical, that she could actually use as a weapon too, but I thought - why can't it be pretty  _ and  _ practical, you know? Like yours. Anyway-" Bulut continued, trying to brush over the slightly sad look that had clouded over his captain's eyes. "I was just wondering if you would help me pick one out for her."

Sanem cleared her throat, nodding away the heavy lump that had formed there. "Of course. I’d be happy to help." 

 

* * *

 

Sanem left the Albatross in Deren’s dutiful hands, docked up alongside a jetty, built where the harbour was deep enough to host ships like her own. Leaving her first mate behind with a wink that had Deren’s forehead crinkling in confusion, before walking over the gangplank onto the jetty, followed by a small gaggle of her crew to venture into the City of Anarchy. 

The land rose up onto gently sloping urbanised hills in the distance, large manor houses sat proudly at the highest point - the homes of wealthy pirate lords who had survived against all odds into old age, only to begrudgingly trade in their ships and swords for greying hair, failing eyesight and a more than comfortable retirement home. The buildings fell in splendour along with the land, descending down to the water’s edge where the dregs of civilisation had made a home for themselves. 

In a word; Touson was loud. A bustling mix of drunken sailors singing and stumbling as they moved along the cobbled streets, harlots whistling as they paraded outside disorderly houses, stray dogs barking and jostling over leftover scraps thrown out of back doors. The chatter of conversation and the sound of lively music playing through the open windows of inns, a chorus of lutes and fiddles seeping into every street corner.

Sanem loved it. It was intense and bright and colourful and  _ free _ in a way she had never experienced in the few cities she had visited growing up. The wildness of the place hung in the warm air so heavily she could almost reach out and touch it. 

The locals were surprisingly friendly, both to each other and to their guests. Under the ties of the shared rogue city, pirates who had once sailed under different emblems now lived together in a kind of turbulent peace. They had found a home together, and they would defend it with their life, but that wasn't to say Touson was anywhere near a quaint little seaside town; the locals were peaceful for  _ pirates _ but they were still pirates. It was a rare thing to live through a week here without waking up to the news that another body had been found dead on the street. 

Sanem could remember wondering the first time she came here, why the city hadn’t been eradicated by the navies of the surrounding countries, not understanding that the residents of the city were their own untamed force of nature. The other nations may have had armadas but Touson was colonised with its own built-in army. And even a swarm of tiny, furious bees could chase off a bear attempting to rudely stick its nose into their home.

Ceycey, Muzo and Guliz disappeared down a lantern-lit side road to the main market square on the left after Sanem bade them farewell with instruction to meet at midnight at the Harika Inn. Pirates were semi-nocturnal creatures; the shops would be open despite the late hour. Sanem continued further inland with Bulut, following the roads up the gently sloping hill to where those with taste could hope to find a half-decent blacksmiths.

Haluk greeted them as they entered the little shop, the bell above the door chiming as they stepped through the threshold. He was a portly man, short and balding with a belly that had been nursed by decades of drowning himself in ale. He was one of the few locals who had the misfortune of being born and raised in Touson, and had lost half of his teeth and most of the sight in his left eye as a result. Pirates didn’t tend to make the best doctors. He didn’t seem to mind though. 

“Ay, Sanem. How have you been?” He called brightly from behind a display counter where he had been polishing a lightweight steel sword. She’d been buying weapons here for years, despite his poor eyesight, Haluk was one of the best weaponsmiths in the city and one of the few that didn’t charge a thief's price. “Keeping out of trouble?”

“Do you know me at all, Haluk?” She grinned cheekily as she approached. 

“I heard Yigit disappeared, spontaneously vanished somewhere in the middle of the channel” He smiled. “You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” 

“How rude that you’d even ask.” She teased. “I would never do such a thing.” 

“Ay, of course you wouldn’t.” He winked. “What can I do for you today?” 

“This one needs a promise knife.” She pointed to Bulut who had already been peering at the selection on display in a corner of the room. 

“Does he now?” Haluk grinned, before hobbling into a backroom and reappearing with a little display case. “I have a few in stock - those you’ve been looking at over there - and this lot.” He slipped the glass panel out of place, allowing Bulut to try out the weight of the blades in his bands. “I can add extra engravings if you like, but it will cost extra and take me a few hours.”

The daggers were stunning. All as sharp and deadly as the reaper's own scythe. A range of hilts, some made from fine, polished crystal - others with various twisting patterns of gold and silver layered against the cold steel. The blades straight or curved or diamond-shaped, the sheaths just as brilliant as the weapons they hid within. Sanem let out a low whistle. 

The poor boy looked a bit bewildered by the selection. Sanem rolled her eyes half-heartedly and shared a jesting look with Haluk. 

“This one-” The weaponsmith began proudly, delicately picking up one of the smaller blades, a dark bronze serpent coiling around the handle, its head resting on top of the end of the hilt with its teeth bare. “-Can be inlaced with poison, should your lady friend be so inclined. Empty at the moment of course”  

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Sanem eagerly took it from Haluk’s hands when he offered, holding it closer for inspection. The snakes head snapped back to reveal a small vial, vein-like tunnels allowing the liquid to bleed into the edge of the blade. “But it’s not really Deren’s thing.”

“What about this one?” Bulut asked, choosing a gold-handled blade,  though he didn’t seem all that sure of himself. “No.” He sighed before Sanem had even had the chance to offer a reply.

He tried them all, picking out each in turn and examining it with a scrutiny that was almost funny but mostly endearing. He wanted this to be perfect.   

His eyes kept catching inherently on one of the ones set in crystal, a deep blue as dark as a storming sea, a no-nonsense, straight steel blade with a simple but pretty geometric pattern engraved along the blood groove. Sanem approved. But she waited for Bulut to make the decision for himself, this wasn’t something that should be pushed. 

He took a while longer to make sure his decision was final, before fumbling for the silver coins in his pocket to pay for the dagger himself with a silly, goofy grin on his face. Sanem’s purse was for communal resources but her crew were free to spend their shares on whatever they wished - it looked as though Bulut had been purposefully  _ not _ spending his for months in an effort to save up for this exact moment.  _ They deserve each other _ , she thought fondly,  _ after everything Deren’s been through... _

Sanem was ecstatic for both of her friends as they waved Haluk goodbye, greeted by the glimmer of stars speckled across the night sky as they stepped back onto the street. 

“To Harika then?” Bulut wondered.

“You go ahead. There’s one more thing I need to do tonight.” She had a letter to pass on to an old friend, but it would be better if she went alone. 

“Alright,” Bulut nodded. “You’ll be okay on your own?”

Sanem raised an almost indignant eyebrow at his question.

“Of course you will,” He corrected himself with a smile. “I’ll see you later. And thank you.” 

 

* * *

 

Sanem let her feet guide her along the familiar path, the hood of her cloak pulled over to disguise her face as best she could. The route veered to the right, taking her away from the life of the highstreets towards the modest homes on the quiet outskirts of the city, the sounds of instruments fading into the distance behind her, replaced by the gentle hum of cicadas as she returned closer to the coolness of the water's edge. Passing through the occasional glow of scarce oil lanterns before slipping back into the cover of darkness.

Sanem took a deep breath before she knocked on the rickety old wooden door, her hands folding protectively around the letter she had tucked inside her belt, digging out her last gold coin from her pocket and slipping it inside the wax-sealed and folded paper. There was someone who needed this more than her.

“Sanem,” An elderly, masculine voice greeted her softly as the door creaked open. He seemed unsurprised by her arrival. His face was tricky to make out in the gloom but she knew the sound of his voice almost as well as she would have recognised her own father’s. 

“Hello, Aziz.”   
  



	11. An Inn, A Chicken, And A Broken Nose

The Harika Inn was already near claustrophobically packed by the time Bulut arrived. A motley mix of pirates and locals passing stories back and forth through alcohol loosened lips as if the tales were a form of currency. It wasn’t unusual for the Inn to be so busy, it had become one of the most popular places in the whole city for those seeking half-decent drinks and somewhere to sleep that was only a tad less uncomfortable than the hammocks most of them were used to suffering with. Borderline luxurious for pirates.

It took him only a few seconds of searching to spy out his companions. Seated around a table in a nook in the very corner of the room, were Ceycey, Muzo and Guliz - all three seemed well on their way to becoming completely inebriated. If the three half-full and eight empty glasses on the table, along with their simultaneous and drunken sounding chorus of ‘Buluuuut!’ was anything to go by. They all burst into stupid giggles as he sat down.

“How did it go?” Ceycey asked after he had calmed down, wiggling his eyebrows and managing not to slur the words too much.

“How did what go?” Bulut stole Muzo’s half-finished drink, pulling a face when he discovered the contents were far more bitter than he had been expecting.

“Picking out a dagger!”

Bulut narrowed his eyes. “How did you know about that?”

“Well, it’s not as if you've been particularly subtle about it,” Guliz shrugged.

Bulut gaped. “You know too?”

“Dude, everyone knows.” Muzo chimed in, sounding only slightly more clear-headed than the other two. “It's been the worst kept secret since that one time Ceycey tried to smuggle that rooster on board the ship. And we all know how well that turned out the very next morning.”

“I loved that chicken.” Ceycey raised his glass.

Bulut rolled his eyes. “Does Deren know?”

“No,” Muzzo shook his head. “Probably not. I’m sure you're fine.”

“Anyway, what did you do with our captain?” Guliz inquired. “It wouldn’t be good if we went and lost her again.”

“She’s running an errand,” Bulut explained. “She should be back soon.”

Ceycey took the opportunity to sneakily reached out to steal a steak knife off the table next to them while their neighbour wasn't looking, digging it into the surface of their own table and beginning to carve out a memorial for his chicken friend against the wood.

Bulut stood, heading toward the bar to fetch a drink for himself and another for Sanem for when she finally joined them. If he had to spend the rest of the evening babysitting those three then he would much rather be drunk too.

Slipping into a gap between burly figures precariously seated on rickety wooden stools, he caught the eye of the barmaid with a slight wave of his hand, who nodded acknowledgement in his direction before finishing the round of orders she'd been halfway through pouring.

He felt someone approach silently on his right-hand side, standing a little too close for comfort in a way that had the hairs on his arm standing on end. Bulut observed the stranger out of the corner of his eye, noticing a young man, probably no older than eighteen, casually leaning over the wooden bar to peer at the range of drinks on the display board while flickering attempted subtle looks towards where Bulut was standing. His subtlety clearly needed some refinement. Bulut tried to ignore him for a while hoping he would eventually leave him alone, placing an order with the lady behind the bar when she approached but soon growing agitated a few moments later when the boy's glances turned into full-on staring.

“What do you want kid?” He asked gruffly.

He didn’t even have the grace to look taken aback. “You work on the Albatross right? For Sanem’s crew?”

Bulut just nodded, sighing.

"Is it true what they say about her? About what happened between her and Can Divit?"

"Your gonna need to be more specific." The sea was swimming with rumours, it was almost hard to keep track.

"About Anaiga. How she stole the map from him and disappeared off North to single-handedly track it down?" The boy's eyes were sparkling with curiosity, the question soon attracting the hushed attention of some of the others sat on the stools nearby, who turned their ears a fraction towards him. Bulut had half expected that exact question - when people came prying, it was by far their favourite.

In all honesty, Bulut didn't have an answer to give. He knew only tepid parts of the story that had unfolded two years ago; that Can Divit was rumoured to have found a route to the northern country of legend. That Sanem  _had_  disappeared for a while not long after the Albatross and the Kotu Kral had unamicably parted ways, that she’d left her ship in Deren’s hands and re-appeared many months later considerably richer than she had been the last time they had seen her. Where she went or what had happened was not a story Sanem had ever been willing to share despite everyone’s best attempts. Bulut wasn't surprised she didn’t like to talk about it, whatever had happened, and as much as she tried not to show it, it had left her with a heart full of guilt. Stealing the path to Anaiga from the man she loved was not something she would have been proud of.

"Sorry kid," Bulut offered as the barmaid handed over his order, leaving the boy with the curious ache of an unanswered question as Bulut headed back towards his friends.

"Whatcha think?" Ceycey pointed to his messy carving on the table, brushing the wood dust out of the way. "As good as Sanem's drawings?"

Bulut gave his friend a sarcastic thumbs-up as he sat, if anything, it looked more like a feathered potato than a chicken.

“Where have you been?” Ceycey slurred as Sanem suddenly appeared and slipped onto the bench to join them. That girl could move like a shadow at times.

“Nowhere.” She replied curtly, Ceycey didn't press, her crew knew not to dig for answers their captain was not willing to give.

Bulut passed her drink across the table.

"Thank you," Sanem sighed, before downing half of it in one go.

The three drunkards immediately began giggling again when they noticed Deren pushing through the crowd towards them, too out of it to notice the mild panic in her eyes.

Bulut turned around to see her approaching, a bashful smile spreading across his face as he clumsily stood to meet her. "Hey, can we talk?"

The giggling got louder.

Her forehead creased for a moment. "Uh, sure, but Sanem, I just had word from the harbour. Can's here."

Panicked, Sanem stood up so fast she nearly knocked the table over, the drinks splashed onto the wooden surface as she nudged Bulut out of the way.

"Here, here?"

"In the city," Deren clarified. "I don't know where exactly."

"Everyone get up. Now. We're leaving." She hurriedly attempted to round up Ceycey, Muzo and Guliz like a sheepdog nipping at the heels of a small band of drunken sheep. It was about as effective too.

Bulut stuttered. "Can I at least-"

"Now is not the time nor the place, Bulut." Sanem interrupted, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the table just as someone cockily, noisily, burst through the front doors of the tavern.

She didn't even look to see who it was before she nervously pushed them all towards the back of the room, trying to move fast while not drawing attention to her stumbling group.

They disappeared through a small door, not entirely sure where it led but hoping it would provide an alternate route of escape.

Instead, they found themselves right in the middle of the kitchen, the chefs looking up, startled, as the gang clamoured through the room before finally sneaking out the backdoor into the darkness of a quiet side alley.

"Was everything already loaded up onto the ship?" Sanem turned to ask Ceycey quietly, anxious for them to set sail the moment they stepped back onto the boat.

"Yeah, we got everythin on board," He mumbled as they all joined the lantern-lit main road leading down to the docks. "But we were still waitin for-"

"Sanem!" Deren hissed abruptly in warning. But it was too late.

Not fully looking where she was going, her body suddenly found itself crashing into someone else's, large and heavy in a way seemed to absorb the impact rather than ricochet backwards despite the fact the collision it had taken him by surprise too.

His arms caught her as she awkwardly stumbled into him, her hands instinctively bracing against his chest to steady herself, but immediately regretting the contact a moment later.

Sanem's breathing took only a second to stop, her heart beating almost painfully heavy in her chest.

She knew those arms, she knew that scent and she knew the shape of that all too familiar golden albatross necklace set into the outline of a compass that was hanging against his tanned skin between the deep v-neck of his shirt. She stared at it, not willing to let here eyes raise any further because she knew as soon as she saw his face she'd no longer be able to convince herself that maybe, perhaps, she had just stumbled into anyone else in the world but  _him._

And then he said her name in that unfairly deep voice of his that used to make her shiver and she knew now that it was unavoidable. He was here. Can was here, and she'd just blindly walked straight into him like a complete and utter idiot.

 

* * *

 

Can couldn't believe it.

She was here, actually here, for the first time in two years she was really, actually, standing right before him as something definitely more solid than a figment of his imagination. He'd found her, two whole years later and he'd finally found her.

Everything about her was exactly as he last remembered, tanned and beautiful and wild-eyed, a gaze that if anything had become even more untamed over the years. Her hair still perfectly wavy, her eyes still stunningly brown, but that were frustrating refusing to meet his, the same scent on her skin that he knew more intimately they anything else in the world and that made him want to bury his nose into her neck. Her lips still looked so soft. He wanted to kiss them.

 

* * *

 

She finally forced herself to look up at him, meeting the hazel eyes that she’d spent years trying to avoid. He was watching her as if she were some sort of dream-like apparition, and he was waiting for the moment that the image would shatter and drag him back to reality.

And then he smiled. The bastard actually looked genuinely happy to see her.

Her mind was at war with itself, her inner voice split in half as one side of her begged to lean forward and kiss him, he was so close and it would only take one slight slip for their lips to meet - and she'd been missing them for such an unfairly long time now. But another voice in her head was screaming at her to punch him. Hard.

It was the second voice she listened to. Shoving her hands against his chest in the second before his nose cracked in a stomach-turning crunch as her fist met his face with more power than she had been expecting. His head snapped around at the impact but he didn't stumble like she'd hoped. She tried to refrain from wincing at the pain that immediately throbbed through her hand.

There's was a ching of swords pulled out of belted sheaths as Can’s men, who had been standing behind him, all drew their weapons at once, closely followed by Sanem's doing the same. But they didn’t advance.

"What the hell was that for?" Can groaned, a hand moving to explore his now bleeding nose.

"You know exactly what that was for you asshole." She nursed her throbbing fist. She would have said she didn't know where the anger came from but that would have been a lie, it had been building and bubbling for the last two years and she was sure the impulsive impact of it was going to bruise her hand for the next few days at least.

She didn't allow herself to be in his proximity for more than ten seconds before she turned to her crew, who were now justifiably on edge. A small crowd of strangers was starting to form around the commotion.

"Let's go," She moved off quickly, trying to escape the situation before it led to something she didn't want, but Can caught her around the arm just above the elbow and tugged her back towards him before she could get far enough away.

"You can't leave," He spoke quietly so that only she could hear, there was almost something heartbreaking about his tone. Sanem didn't care - at least, she was trying not to. "I only just found you again."

Her free hand, granted it's was her weaker one, fished out the dagger from her belt and pressed it into the side of his stomach through the layers of his clothing.

He felt the pressure of it digging into his skin before he saw it, glancing down before dropping her arm, holding his hands up in surrender with a slightly mournful look in his eyes

"We're leaving," Sanem repeated to her crew. "Now."

Can didn't stop her this time.


	12. Stuck In A Spiders Nest

**Five Years Ago**

Undeniably stranded out in the middle of goddamn nowhere, looking out at a never-ending ocean on a ship manned by semi-feral pirates - most of whom didn't seem all that pleased to have a stowaway on board, there was only really one thought permeating through Sanem's mind now that Gypsy was safely in her arms again.

_Now what?_

She was even further away from Katiket than she had been before she set off, so she would say things were going pretty  _great_  for her so far. But it could have ended up being a hell of a lot worse if the Kotu Kral hadn't come along and helpfully besieged those who had been taking her somewhere she definitely didn't want to go. She was trying not to think about that.

Justifiably, Sanem still didn't feel entirely safe on the new ship despite Can's amicable welcome, but any misgivings she had towards those who had apparently, purposefully or not, just saved her life, were inconsequential considering she could get no more than one hundred feet away from them at any given moment. And the dimly lit watery edge of the horizon was all that surrounded them for miles and miles and bloody  _miles_. She was stuck.

Can must have noticed the fleeting look in her eyes as she glanced around the ship, her hands ruffling nervously into her cat's fur. "We can take you to Katiket," He offered. "If that's still where you want to go."

Her gaze met his, looking hopeful but understandably hesitant.

"We were gonna head in that direction anyway," He explained. "But by our original route, it will take us a couple of weeks to get there."

_Weeks?_

"Oh," Sanem shuffled her feet, this trip was going to take far longer than she'd originally intended. But she wasn't dead - so at least she had that to be grateful for. And if after everything, she still found her way to Sinan, a little late and slightly dishevelled, but there none the less, then maybe she could consider this whole derailed expedition a success after all. "Okay. Thank you."

"You'll have to earn your keep in the meantime though." Sanem looked up to notice a sparkle of humour in his eyes that she couldn't quite place but that instantly had her face flushing a heated red as the potential implications of his words ran through her mind in a flurry of warning.

The playfulness on his face fell away instantly, replaced for a split second by confusion before his eyes flashed with mortified recognition. "Whoa, hey," He raised his hands suddenly in surrender. "That's not - that's not what I meant at all."

Her cheeks were still burning but she managed to take a deep breath. "Good,"

"Good," He cleared his throat.

An awkward moment passed before the silence was broken by the little cat's indignant squeaking at Sanem's reluctance to let her jump down. She hadn't had to deal with that problem on the Wigeon, but now the little tortoiseshell seemed eager to wiggle out of her grip and start exploring the new vessel that they'd found themselves on.

"And my cat can stay?" Sanem enquired tentatively.

"Of course," Can smiled. "We'd be honoured to have her on board."

She finally let Gypsy free onto the ground, praying as she scurried away, that the little cat wouldn't disappear into the abyss of the ship where Sanem would struggle to find her again, especially as she was the only part of home she had left. And home was feeling like such a distressingly far away concept at the moment.

A sudden call of his name made Can turn around as one of his men climbed up through the square hole in the deck where the stairs descended to the lower levels.

As the other man approached, Sanem noticed he looked cleaner than the others, not that any of them were nearly as filthy as Sanem would have expected, but he was surprisingly tidy and well kept, almost as tall as Can but of a slimmer build, his hair short and his face clean-shaven. Wearing orderly clothes that resembled a relaxed navy uniform. He nodded to Sanem in greeting before quietly whispering something in Can's ear.

Sanem politely turned her attention away from their conversation, not that she could hear anything anyway.

"Thank you, Metin," Can replied after a moment. He glanced back in her direction before calling over one of his other crew members with a whistle and a wave of his hand.

"Sanem, this is Deren." He introduced as a ginger women a similar height to Sanem approached. "Deren, this is Sanem. Be nice, I want you to get her settled, find her somewhere to sleep for the night and show her the ropes in the morning. Okay?"

"Alright," The reluctance in her tone wasn't hidden, the words following a not so discreet rise and fall of her chest as she sighed.

Sanem gapped for a few seconds, which she was sure wasn't giving her any introductory favours, but with all the commotion of the last twenty minutes she had failed to notice than Can's crew included women, and her brain was still lagging from the shock of it. Women weren't pirates - women weren't allowed to work on ships, everyone knew that. And yet, here she was.

Can suddenly left her alone as he followed - what was his name? Metin? Down into the depths of the ship, leaving Sanem feeling even more stranded than she had before, under the coldly scrutinizing gaze of the fierce-looking redhead standing in front of her.

"Hi," Sanem finally said, offering out her hand shyly in greeting. Deren didn't take it.

 

* * *

 

Living on the Kotu Kral, Sanem felt like a ladybird living amongst a nest full of spiders, half-certain one of them might try to bite her if given the opportunity, and she kept getting tangled in their ropes. They weren't a particularly friendly bunch. Though Sanem was beginning to get the feeling that was because they didn't trust her as much as she didn't trust them.

Deren remained just as charming as she had on the first night. After showing Sanem to a spare hammock in the crews sleeping quarters, Sanem had been left alone to dwell on her mistakes and the absurdity of the situation she had gotten herself into. This was nowhere near what she'd expected when she set off for the city, and if the universe had sought fit to give her any sense of warning she probably would have chosen to walk all the hundreds of miles it would have taken to reach Sinan, even if it blistered her feet beyond repair.

Deren woke her the next morning and before Sanem even had the chance to blink the sleep out of her eyes and stretch the ache out of her limbs she was set to the task of sorting through the items they had repossessed from the Wigeon the previous evening, separating what could earn them a few coins from what was better thrown away, digging through crates and boxes filled with liquid maladies that Deren warned her not to touch.

"Or do. Whatever, I don't care." Deren shrugged. Though Sanem was sure she saw the redhead discreetly slip a few of the vials into her pocket.

Sanem was struggling to get a read on the other women. More often than not, she seemed so cold and acrimonious, and yet at mealtimes she always made the effort to seek out and sit next to Sanem, even if she had positioned herself somewhere secluded to get away from the others. It was probably Can's doing. But the company was nice, even if they did mostly sit in a silence that felt a bit uncomfortable to Sanem but seemed completely natural for Deren.

Day two consisted, as Can had instructed, of learning the ropes. Bata's teaching had - naturally - stuck in her head and Deren frowned at her when she perfectly tied a bowline knot without a single word of instruction and then frowned even harder when Sanem proceeded to effortlessly tie off the next ten Deren tested her on.

"Where did you learn these?" Deren raised an eyebrow.

"On the Wigeon," Sanem explained.

"You were only there for a day."

"Yeah?" Sanem didn't really understand the point. She'd learnt the knots, she'd seen how to do it, the patterns were stuck in her brain now and would be forever.

 

* * *

 

 

Days seemed to bleed together out on the water. The ship didn't sleep so nor could its crew - at least not entirely. There was always a handful of sailors awake at even the deepest parts of the night and a constant group snoring downstairs in their hammocks. Shift work made sure the sails stayed aimed in the right direction and allowed a constant pair of eyes to keep a lookout for anyone trying to sneak up on them.

Their diet surprised her, though logically it shouldn't have. Lacking the convenient access of a farmers market, they fed mostly on anything that could be dried, salted, pickled or left to go stale without worry it would go mouldy. The only occasional fresh privilege was whatever fish they managed to catch that day - which they didn't bother with often as the nets slowed the ship down.

Pirate cuisine was the farthest thing from delightful Sanem had ever experienced, and she'd been raised mostly on discarded bakery scraps of burnt or old and crusting bread. But the mix was strangely satisfying and after a few days with a complete lack of options, she found herself getting used to the repetitive blandness of it.

Sanem had never really imagined what it would be like to be a pirate, but she hadn't expected it to be as uneventfully dull as it was. Out on the open ocean and confined to the length of the ship there was remarkably little to do. After the chores were done (and they took up surprisingly few of their hours each day) what little they had in the form of entertainment consisted mostly of sparring - both with and without weapons, coin staked card games, singing out of pitch songs or getting drop-dead drunk to pass the time. Often a mix of all four at once, which rarely ended well.

Sanem stayed on the outskirts for the most part, watching the sparring from a distance - unless it was Can who was fighting, in which case he would nearly always, and entirely unfairly, pull his shirt over his head and throw it onto the deck, leaving Sanem with red-stained cheeks as she disappeared to find Gypsy to distract herself.

A whole week passed uneventfully and she had seen very little of the captain since that first evening. He spent most of his time on the raised deck at the rear of the ship above the cabins, where Metin and a few others of those of higher rank were granted permission to spend their time. Deren had explained it was called the poop deck but Sanem couldn't decide if she was being made fun of or not. Regardless, she was warned to stay away. Sanem didn't feel any need to disagree with that instruction.

It was the eighth day (she had been carefully counting) when Can finally approached her again.

"You seem bored," He noted as he sat down on the deck next to where Sanem had been absentmindedly watching the waves as they sailed along, one of her legs dangling over the edge of the ship, Gypsy perching on the taffrail just above her head. He sat beside her close enough that Sanem almost felt the need to shuffle a few inches away from him, refraining in an attempt to not seem rude - and in all honesty, she was enjoying the closeness and didn't  _really_  want to.

"I'm not," It was a lie, obviously, but she didn't want to seem ungrateful for his hospitality.

"It's okay." He promised. "Not everyone is born for this type of lifestyle. It takes some getting used to, I guess."

He paused, joining her eyes staring out at the water in front of them. Land still hadn't so much as peeked into sight the whole time she'd been on the Kotu Kral, perhaps it was just because Can was trying to keep out of the way but it was making her nervous that they seemed to be moving further and further away from where they'd found her. In all honesty, she'd lost all sense of direction the moment she'd first set out onto the ocean.

"So, what  _do_  you like to do?" He asked after a few peaceful minutes. She hadn't expected the question, so the familiarity of it took her by surprise.

"Uh," She watched him for a minute as he reached out to let Gypsy rub her cheek against his hand. She'd never been a fan of admitting it to people, for someone of her class the hobby was considered a complete waste of time, but she got the sense that he was being genuinely curious and probably wouldn't scoff at her answer. So she took a deep breath. "I like to draw."

"Draw?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Like what?" He wondered, curiosity warm in his eyes. The sincerity made her smile.

"Animals," She replied. "Birds mostly, but really anything I can find. It's why I was headed to Katiket - I was going to sell my drawings to a friend, but my, uh-" She stuttered but her voice didn't wobble, thankfully. "My sketchbook kinda got destroyed."

She turned her head back to the waves as he stared at her for what felt like an uncomfortably long time. And then, wordlessly, he got up and walked away.

His disappearance left an instant coldness in the space he had occupied beside her, Sanem let her head fall into her hands and groaned as Gypsy blinked at her slowly.

She'd heard about this back in the village, women falling foolishly smitten with their saviours - it was stupid and cliche and as hard as she tried to deny it she couldn't help that she was most definitely, inarguably, smitten. He was undeniably handsome in a rugged sort of way, and he'd been so kind to her in the short amount of time they had spent together so far.

And then of course.  _Of course_. He just had to return five minutes later with a hastily wrapped paper package in his hands that immediately made her heart warm up after she carefully unwrapped it with a confused frown on her face.

The pencils fell out onto her lap first, as the last of the makeshift packaging unravelled to reveal a leatherbound book that had initially begun life as a ledger if the first few pages were any indication. Most of them were still blank and the paper felt sturdy under her fingertips - better quality than she was used to, and by the looks of it, the pencils had already been perfectly sharpened by the blade of a knife.

She silently cursed herself when she realised she'd suddenly started hugging him, allowing herself a moment longer before her arms, folded comfortably around the back of his neck, slipped away as she pulled back, apologising. But the smile on his face suggested he hadn't really minded.

"Where did you get this?" She asked, as her hands fawned over the binding.

"We get a lot of stuff raiding ships. Some of it's valuable, most of it's not." He indicated to the book in her hand that she was looking at as if it was the most precious thing in the world. "But sometimes all that's needed to appreciate the value in something is to find the right person."

He stood up again, bidding farewell with a gentle smile before he headed back up to the helm, leaving Sanem with the gift held fondly in her lap as the soft warmth in her heart seeped into her cheeks.

 


	13. A Glass Key

**Five Years Ago**

Sanem had learned that there was nothing comparable in the whole world to watching the sunset out on the ocean, how the orange glow would sit warm and candescent over the water before it would depart in a blink of colour over the edge of the distant horizon. It was something she was going to miss when she left, and something she’d been trying for the last few evenings to capture in her sketchbooks, but the stubborn grey of her pencils had failed to do it justice and the spectacle refused to allow itself to be captured through mortal hands.

If she’d been counting correctly, then she only had a few days left on the ship. With the freedom of the book in her lap and the pencils in her hand, time had been slipping through her fingers.

Her birds were back, at least, most of them. Pages in her memory had sadly been lost but most of her favourites had been the rarer species anyway, so she was certain those she'd forgotten she could easily find again.

Somehow, through exposing this side of herself to Can’s sailors, they had gradually become something more than just accustomed to her presence on the ship. Deren remained, well -  _Deren._ But Sanem found, so gradually that she almost didn't even notice, that Can and the redhead were no longer the only two people willing to strike up conversation.

Having not spent much time around inlanders, many of them were curious about her life, asking more questions than would be considered polite, but in a way that was endearing rather than being overbearing. About home, her childhood, working in the bakery, her family and the village. She didn't mind sharing, and she found it helped them to unravel their own histories for her to hear.

One by one, she learnt everyone's names (or whatever nickname they had chosen to go by) and soon found they’d adopted to calling her ‘lamb’. She wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be abasement or just fond teasing but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the names that had been gifted to a few of the others, so she didn’t complain.

For all the worry she’d gone through over letting Gypsy loose amongst those she had seen as barbarians, they’d all taken to the cat far faster than they had taken to Sanem herself. And, consequently, the little tortoiseshell had gotten fat from whatever it was she was chasing down in the cargo hold, added onto whatever scraps everyone (especially Can) kept feeding her at mealtimes. Which was a feat to have achieved in only thirteen days.

Sanem sat with her back against the wood-panelled wall that surrounded the cabins, having given up on the sunset and starting instead to draw the scruffy cat as she dozed on top of a wooden barrel beside where Sanem was sitting, her stomach looking significantly more podgy than it had two weeks prior.

The sudden clearing of someone’s throat beside her made Sanem jump, having been too captivated in what she was doing to pay attention to her surroundings, glancing up to see Metin looking slightly sheepish for having startled her, and then looking back down to notice her pencil had taken an unfortunate and unintentional arch straight through her sketch.

"Sorry," He apologised. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's okay." Sighing as she looked at the state of the drawing, closing the book. "She's gotten too chubby to be a good model anyway."

Metin let out a gentle laugh before joining her on the floor, sinking into a relaxed posture with his back leaning against the wooden wall. "Do you mind if I have a look?"

He was pointing at the sketchbook but it still took Sanem a moment to comprehend what he was saying, no one had ever asked to see it before, aside from Sinan. "Sure." She finally replied, somewhat timidly.

"Can tells me you're pretty good, I've been curious." Metin smiled as she passed it over to him, respectfully taking care with the pages as he had seen her do. Browsing through the intricate hand-drawn images, birds made from shading, delicate hatch drawn lines and a hand that had been guided by adoration.

"How do you know what to do without looking at them?" He wondered with slight reverence. "We've been out at sea for ages, there haven't been any birds around and yet you're making all these perfect replicas without any visual reference."

She had spent little time around Can’s first mate but she had gotten the sense that he was remarkably eloquent for a pirate, both in the way he dressed and in the way he spoke. He didn’t seem to do it in a demeaning way, but it was clearly remnants of whatever life he’d lived before he’d joined the crew.

"I mean, I  _have_  looked at them all, it was a while ago but I have seen them all before." Sanem explained.

His forehead creased for a moment. "And you can't just remember what they look like? Every tiny detail?"

"Yeah."

He didn't seem to know how to respond to that, he just continued through the book until he reached the empty pages, then handed it back with a slightly awed smile. "So I’m pretty sure the words Can used were actually ‘divinely talented’ and he asked me not to repeat that, but I’ve got to say. I agree completely."

Sanem blushed. Though whether it was from the compliment or the fact that Can had been talking about her she couldn't tell. Her cheeks had taken on the unfortunate habit of colouring themselves far too often in the last two weeks. "Thank you."

Deren joined them a moment later, handing them both a wooden bowl of god-knows-what as she casually settled herself in the gap between Metin’s legs like it was the most natural thing in the world. Metin didn't bat an eyelid.

There was nothing territorial about the gesture, Deren had seen the way Sanem’s cheeks had rosied every time she’d gotten too close to their Captain, but the confident display of affection was still enough to leave Sanem a bit dumbfounded.

Sanem wanted to pinch herself for not noticing sooner, raising her eyebrows at Deren who shrugged in reply, as Sanem took a sip from her bowl, tasting what resembled pickled onions and something definitely alcoholic.

“Where is it exactly you guys are heading?” Sanem asked. “You haven’t docked anywhere and if we’re circling back round to Ikara then surely we’ve all just been going round in pointless circles.”

“Circles indeed.” Metin nodded before he tipped back his bowl into his mouth, downing the whole thing at once. There were at least some pirate qualities he had picked up. “But they weren’t at all pointless.”

He smiled at the confusion on her face, before letting the conversation go silent for a few minutes.

“Have you heard of Anaiga?” He finally asked, the question coming out tentatively as if unsure he wanted to start this conversation. Sanem noticed the quick glance of admonition Deren sent him.

“Yeah,” Sanem confirmed. “Everyone’s heard of it - the mythical drowned kingdom.”

“And that’s how it was taught to you? As a myth?” Deren wondered.

Sanem nodded slowly, wondering what any of this had to do with sailing aimlessly around the Eastern Channel for the last two weeks.

“And how much do you know about it?” Metin inquired, placing his bowl next to Gypsy so she could lick out the remains.  _Great, now Gypsy is going to be fat and drunk._

Sanem gathered her thoughts for a moment, digging through the memories and pieces she’d collected as a child. “It’s an island - or  _was_ an island. Rumoured to be found way up in the north, ingrained with its own religion, the figureheads of which were adopted by a few other ancient cultures over time.” Metin nodded, indicating he was familiar with her words. “Remaining stable by the rule of a powerful monarchy for generations until it last ruler, the Mad Queen, who became bitter after the death of her two sons. The gods were unhappy with the land being ruled by a mournful ruler so they cursed the island to fall into the sea. Or... something like that.” She might have gone a little heavy on the dramatic.

“Well, that’s the gist of it.” Deren granted, finishing her own dinner.

“But for our kind, it’s always been more than just a legend.” Metin explained. “They say that the very first pirates originated from those trying to escape Anaiga before it was destroyed, and with no real home to return to, they lived on the seas, waiting for the day the island would return.”

Sanem glanced around, noticing for the first time the group that had assembled nearby to hear the story, they’d all heard it a hundred times before but that didn’t make them any less enraptured.

“Our version of the story is more complicated than yours.” Metin continued. “It tells that the sovereignty in Anaiga were blessed with divine powers, a gift given by the gods themselves. The last ruling Queen was named Tahalia, she ruled for ten peaceful years before her first and only sons were born, twins - and entirely illegitimate. The nobles were naturally furious, and considered the boys blasphemous; a disgrace to the gods who had allowed the kingdom to become so prosperous. So, they organised to have them murdered.” Metin took a breath, the crowd around him held on his every word. “And when Tahalia found them dead in their beds, understandably, she snapped. Maddened by grief, she used her abilities to slaughter her way through the whole kingdom.”

“Everyone you ask will have different opinions over whether or not it was the queen or the gods themselves that caused the island, along with all its wealth, to be consumed by the sea.” Deren chimed in. “But I like to think that badass did it herself.”

“She killed thousands of people, Deren.” Metin laughed. His girlfriend just shrugged, unsympathetic.

“But it can’t actually be real. It’s just a story.” Sanem contented. “A whole Island can’t just disappear into the sea. And the gods, they're just fantasies from a civilisation long since dead.”

“I wouldn’t go around calling religions ‘fantasies’, Sanem. That could get you in a heap of trouble if you weren’t surrounded by such considerate friends.” Deren jested.

“And have you heard the divination?” Metin asked. “The only cryptic as shit guide as to how to find the sunken city.”

“That silly little nursery rhyme?” Sanem crossed her eyebrows.

“That’s the one.” Deren nodded.

Sanem had always loved the macabre vibe of it, it wasn’t difficult to remember. “Those who seek the lady’s throne, eyes of blood and heart of stone. Through death stained waters and devil’s pass, for a crown of crystal and a key of glass. Should follow the answer to the oceans cold, to seek out the fable and the city of old.”

Deren started clapping enthusiastically, it was occurring to Sanem that whatever had been flavouring their dinner, Deren had clearly taken a second helping of it.

“Are you frightening everyone with ghost stories again, Metin?” Sanem hadn’t even noticed when Can appeared, for once. He joined them, reclining against the wall on Sanem’s other side as she held her breath for a moment. Did he not realise how close he was? Do pirates have something against personal space? She tried to command her cheeks not to blush again but she wasn’t sure it was working.

“It’s not a ghost story.” Metin insisted. “You know that as well as I do, brother.”

“But you can’t actually be serious.” Sanem frowned.

“We are.” Metin nodded. “Completely serious.”

“ _He_  is.  _I_  still have yet to be convinced.” Can admitted. She felt his chest thrumming as he spoke, the vibrations tingling along the skin of her arm where it was pressed into his side, but if she moved away from him she’d end up uncomfortably close to where Metin and Deren were entangled. So she didn’t.

“But back to your original question, Sanem.” Metin said. “We have been sailing around in “circles” because we finally found the glass key-”

“You _think_  we’ve found the glass key.” Can rebuked playfully.

“Fine. We think we have found the key.” Metin huffed, but there was still humour in his eyes. “And we’ve been trying to follow it.”

“Follow it?” Sanem asked. “How can you follow a key?”

“It’s not the most… conventional of keys.” Can explained, sharing a tactful glance with Metin, who gave a small nod before Can got up and disappeared back inside his cabin. It was almost embarrassing how much she found herself missing the contact after he was gone, but at least it gave the redness in her cheeks a rest.

He returned not long after, a heavy, silk-lined drawstring pouch in his hands as he settled back into the space he’d occupied before.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Deren challenged as Can began carefully removing the contents from the bag.

Can sighed before he turned to face Sanem. “Will you promise not to tell anyone about this?”

“Of course.” The seriousness in his eyes was slightly daunting but she was too curious now to ruin her chances of him letting her see whatever was inside.

Can glanced back to Deren and gave her a look as if to say ‘happy now?” before pulling out the key for Sanem to see.

Except it wasn’t a key.

It was a translucent glass orb - glittered with specks of silver that refracted the evening light. A warm blue glowing at its central point made it feel as though Sanem were staring into the heart of a tiny sun, feathered arms of starlight reaching out to the edges.

There was something ethereal about it, something eerie that made Sanem want to stay as far away as possible, and yet, at the same time, something beautiful that made her want to reach out and touch it.

It was cold and heavy in her hands when Can calmly passed it to her, shimmered as she twisted it under the last rays of orange sunset. “What is it?”

“We don’t really know.” Can admitted. “Metin had a theory that it’s a constellation map, but the weird thing is that the little specks move around as the ship does - very slowly, but you can start to notice it after a few hours. We were trying to get it to align with the real stars, we were getting close. Then all of a sudden the trail went cold, not long after we ran into the Wigeon and found you, actually.”

He took it back from her, curiosity sated as the glass left a humming feeling in her fingertips.

“Anyway,” Can announced, clearing his throat as he noticed the ship and shifted slightly off course due to lack of guidance. “Story time’s over, everyone back to their stations, we need to reach Ikara by tomorrow evening.” 

It was a command to his crew but also a promise to Sanem, but it hadn’t landed in her heart as she’d expected. 

Tomorrow was beginning to feel like far too soon.  


	14. The Freedom Of A Life Worth Living

**Five Years Ago**

It wasn't the sound of muffled shouting or the rushing footsteps above her head that woke her, though she became alarmingly aware of the commotion as soon as her senses caught on to it. Deren stood over Sanem's hammock, a frantic look in her eyes as she nudged her awake while repeated something that to Sanem's sleep riddled brain sounded suspiciously like 'get up, get up, get the fuck up!'

"What's happening?" She mumbled as she attempted not to stumble out of her bed, the intense grogginess clouding her mind suggesting she'd had an unfairly short amount of time to sleep.

"We're being attacked," Deren explained as she took little time in taking Sanem's hand and dragging her out of the crew's sleeping quarters by the light of the hanging oil lanterns, up onto the main deck which was still deep in darkness. Gypsy followed, shrinking along at Sanem's heels with her tail bristled and her ears pinned back.

The deck was in chaos. The noise of shouted orders and a flurry of crew rushing to arm themselves or disappear back downstairs to prepare the cannons to fire at the dark-green sailed ship that was approaching their own at a formidable pace. Unable to outrun them, Can had turned the ship to meet the assault, like a pair of incredibly over-armoured rams about to violently butt heads.

It was hard to make out in the darkness but there appeared to be no crown colours ornamenting their assailant sails, so she could only assume it was another band of pirates, but she didn't have much time to look before Deren was dragging her towards the main cabins and through the double doors leading to Can's room, away from danger.

"Here, take this," Deren insisted as she unhooked a dagger from her belt. "And then pray you won't have to use it."

"Don't you need it?"

"No, I have my own, and I prefer swords anyway." Deren pressed. "This one's Can's, he told me to give it to you."

"But I still have this one." Sanem pulled the letter knife out from her pocket, squeaking as an ear-splitting boom suddenly rocked the ship. Had they just fired or been hit? She couldn't tell, but her heart was racing in her chest so hard she almost wanted to throw up, and yet at the same time the excitement was brightening her senses in a way she had never experienced before. It was exhilarating.

"Oh, lamb, that's gonna do next to nothing if you find yourself in a real fight." Deren pushed the larger knife into Sanem's hands before she stepped back towards the room's only exit. "Barricade the doors." Deren indicated towards a thick wooden beam leaning against the wall next to the door frame, metal arms welded into either side of the door to hold the beam in place and prevent anyone unfriendly getting inside.

"Where are you going?" It was a stupid question really, but the panic of being left alone wasn't helping her brain run as smoothly as it would have been under normal circumstances.

"I'm needed outside, you'll be fine." Deren promised as she disappeared through the doorway.

Sanem didn't waste time doing as she'd been instructed. Heaving the bulky wooden beam in place before another round of cannon fire shook the floorboards under her feet. Her hands were shaking as she clutched onto the dagger, noticing Gypsy cowering under a set of drawers in a corner of the room.

 

* * *

 

The emerald dyed sails pulling the attacker's ship towards his own were not a colour Can was familiar with, though he had a feeling he'd seen that black siren emblem lurking around the last time they'd been in Touson, but any sneaking suspicions that they might have been followed were left inconsequential as soon as the battle began.

Like a flurry of vultures swarming around a dying creature, the raiders descended, the ships dancing in a cautious circle as both tried to simultaneously turn each other's hull to splinters, while avoiding the fate for themselves.

Can's crew were well practised in handling the large and lumbering weight of the Kotu Kral, quickly readjusting the sail lines and desperately yanking the helm around to sharply turn the keel. Avoiding the worst of the damage as the green ship attempted their first attack, but a few wayward cannon shots still managed to make the wooden beams of the deck rattle under his feet.

Can yelled for the release of their own guns, watching proudly as the majority of the shots ran true, shattering the side of the opposing ship with a satisfying crunch - but the wounds weren't deadly.

It didn't take long for their assailants to decide on a new tactic, abandoning the cannons and steering their ship closer to his own in an attempt to board. Pirates were pirates after all, and this wasn't just a game of sinking ships, they'd be in it for blood, and whatever treasures they could steal along the way.

Can didn't command his ship to slink away from the challenge, facing it bravely as his crew steadied themselves. Most of them were itching for this, after weeks spent idle out on the water they were chomping at the bit. His eyes found Deren as she returned to Metin's side, her sword held ready in her hand, she nodded toward him when she noticed his gaze, confirming that Sanem was out of harm's way.

He let their attackers come to them, claiming the home advantage. The first of them using loose rail lines to swing across the gap between the two boats. Bodies falling like stones as Guliz shot them down with her bow from where she was perched in the crow's nest, eyes like an eagle despite the dim light, arrows hitting bodies with a sickening thwomp as they tumbled with a scream into the cold water below. But most still managed to cross, landing on the deck of his ship before they charged forward.

Can drew his sword.

 

* * *

 

There was nothing for Sanem to do but wait as she listened to the clamorous sound of battle muffled through the heavy, wooden doors. Pacing as she twiddled the dagger in her hands, her heart thumping heavily in her chest. This was undoubtedly the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her in her whole life, and she was stuck in a damn wooden box, tucked away safely where she couldn't see  _anything_. It was frustrating. But the logical part of her brain was refusing to let her unhook the barricade and waltz back out onto the deck straight into the middle of the action, aware that it would have been colossally stupid and most definitely would have gotten her killed. And she'd gotten so lucky at avoiding that so far. Nevertheless, she couldn't help feeling the need to do  _something_. To be helpful in whatever way she could to those she'd come to consider friends, who were outside risking life and limb while she was all cozy and safe behind closed doors.

Gypsy stood shivering in her nook under the drawer, wailing every time there was a particularly loud noise. She seemed to be the only sane one in the room.

 _How long had it been? Ten minutes? Twenty? Was everyone okay? What in the devil's hell was happening outside?_  She wanted to see.

And only a moment later she jumped as something suddenly, nosily, came smashing through the panels of glass at the back of the room, shards flying across the floor as Sanem turned around to see a grimy faced man climbing through the ragged gap in the broken glass. Righting himself after he awkwardly pulled his body through the window frame. Sanem found herself staring at a face she didn't recognise - skinny and bald with an unfortunately hooked nose.

He blinked at her for a few minutes, almost as surprised to see her as she had been to see him, clearly not expecting to bump into anyone during his sneaky attempt to raid Can's cabin. His eyes fell to the blue glow balancing on a ring on Can's desk, an equal distance between where they stood and pushed up against the left wall. Sanem hadn't even noticed the glass sphere before.

The man glanced back at her, meeting her gaze before shiftily darting his eyes down to the dagger in her hands. Sanem gulped, blood rushing pure adrenalin through her veins.

_You know, Universe, I was kinda joking when I said I wanted to do something to help, and I feel, maybe, this might be a bit -_

And then he moved. Hurtling himself purposefully towards the glass key as Sanem debated, in the split second that she had, whether she really wanted to risk her life over a glorified marble.

Before she flung herself at him.

Having never actually fought anyone before, she was hesitant to use the knife in her hand, and opted to instead, kind of just pushed him over, clumsily knocking them both onto the ground a second after he'd reached out for the blue glowing sphere. The glass dropping from his hand and hitting the ground, before it began noisily rolling across the floorboards towards Sanem's hand. She desperately reached out for it, shying away when a blinding pain suddenly shot through her skull as the man's boot frantically collided with the side of her head, just above her eye.  _Ugh._

 _Asshole_!

The ship tilted again, guiding the rolling glass sphere in the other direction, moving even further away from Sanem's reach and closer towards the man who wanted to steal it.

Sanem grunted in fury as she finally gave in and stabbed the knife straight through the calf of his leg as he tried to scramble away. Understandably, he screamed.

Wobbling and dizzy, she pushed herself onto her feet, becoming aware for the first time of the blood gushing out of the wound above her eye, grabbing the glass key in her hands before backing away from the man, wide-eyed as he pulled the blade out of his leg with shaky hands.

Someone began thumping on the door at the same time as the room started spinning, and Sanem decided she was, probably, most likely, about to die, before she heard Can's reassuring voice from the other side yelling her name.

She stumbled towards it, managing to shove the barricade out of the way far enough to allow one of the doors to open before he pushed his way inside, his worried eyes turning even more distressed when he noticed the mess that had been made of her face, and the bloodied man crawling along the floor.

"What happened?"

"He was after your key," Sanem explained feebly, handing the glass orb over to him before she collapsed into his arms.

 

* * *

 

"I'm fine." Sanem insisted ten minutes later, trying to blink away the blood that was dripping into her eye as she focused on a wood knot she had found in the panels next to his bed, in an attempt to stop the room from turning upside down.

Can didn't grace her with a response. Taking a damp cloth from Guliz as she unrolled her modest kit of healing supplies, Sanem tried not to stare at the selection of suture needles.

The man she'd stabbed had been dragged away and... disposed of. She didn't ask how specifically. They'd won, slightly battered and bruised but they'd won none the less.

Can pressed the cloth against the side of her forehead, immediately making Sanem pull her head back in shock as she hissed.

"That stings!"

"Of course it's gonna sting, it's saltwater. Now stay still." He instructed as he began gently dabbing the blood away so Guliz could get a better look at the wound hidden underneath.

"Saltwater?" Sanem frowned. "Is that healthy?"

"It's fine." Guliz promised. "It can be medicinal in the right circumstances. It's great for stopping infection - half the reason no one on this ship has gangrene despite everyone trying their damn hardest."

Sanem laughed softly, appreciating Guliz's attempts to lighten the mood, then catching her head with the palm of her hand as the effort caused her to go dizzy for a few moments. Guliz frowned, checking the skin where Can's delicate hands had washed away the last of the seeping red.

"Well, you won't need stitches, lucky for you. Head wounds like to bleed like a bitch but it's not particularly deep." That was the best news Sanem had heard all day. Guliz glanced around the room, spotting a lantern hanging from a nearby wall before fetching it and holding the light in front of Sanem's face. Moving it in and out of Sanem's line of sight in a way that was slightly dazzling. She blinked as the young healer sighed, confirming her diagnosis. "But you have a concussion."

"I do not."

"Sanem," Can warned.

"I wouldn't recommend she stays in a hammock for the rest of the night. She'll probably just fall straight onto the floor and make her head even worse than it already is." Guliz turned to Can.

"She can have my room." Metin offered. "I don't mind joining the others for tonight." Had he always been standing there? Oh, and Deren was behind him too, unfamiliar concern creasing her forehead as she met Sanem's eyes, it was sweet really, Sanem had never seen that look on her before, though it worried her to wonder how bad her face must look right now to warrant the usually stone-faced woman to appear genuinely distressed.

"No, it's fine Metin she can stay here." Sanem tentatively prodded the lump that was slowly forming over the space above her right eye, wincing as the contact made her head throb, but happy to find that her fingers were free from blood when she looked at them again - wait. What had Can just said?

The others had already begun filing out of the room when she looked up, letting out a quiet squeak. "Uh, my hammock's fine, really, I don't mind -"

Can caught her as her legs wobbled from under her. "Stop being stubborn." But his words were as gentle as his grip around her arms. "It's fine, Sanem. You have my bed and I'll go downstairs."

"You don't have to," The hit on her head seemed to have knocked out her inhibitions, she could hardly believe she'd even just said that.

Can blinked at her.

"You can stay. With me."  _What are you doing?_  "It's your room and I don't want to kick you out and I really don't mind and it's probably better if someone's watching over me, right? So... you can stay."

Silence hung in the air long enough for her cheeks to start blushing, she hoped the light in the room was too dim for him to notice, before he finally replied softly.

"Okay." 

"Okay," She wasn't sure if she was repeating his answer out of surprise or if she were confirming her own approval of the situation, but either way, he carefully helped her sit back down on the mattress. Scooping Gypsy into his arms from the corner of the room where she'd spent the last half an hour cowering, before handing her over to Sanem for consolation.

She buried her hands into the anxiously purring cat's fur as Can returned to sit next to her, tenderly brushing his thumb over a bruise that was forming under her chin, he grimaced at the sight of it as Sanem held her breath.

"You shouldn't have done that." He sighed, letting his hand fall away. "What made you think you could take him on?" The words didn't sound disappointed, there was a layer of genuine curiosity in the question but mostly he just sounded concerned that she'd unnecessarily put herself in harm's way.

"I didn't want him to steal the key,"

"Well, that's not your job," Can contended.

Senm took a deep breath. "I know. I'm sorry, I was being stupid. Reckless."

Can nodded in agreement, which just made her feel worse. "You were being stupid." She looked down at the cat in her lap, unsure if she wanted to hear this. "You were being stupid, and stubborn, and brave." She tentatively looked up to notice the fond smile on his face. "You were being a pirate."

She smiled back at him, feeling a smidge proud of herself. "How is your boat?"

"My boat's fine," He smiled gently. "Nothing we can't fix. It's your head I'm worried about."

"My head's fine." She insisted.

Can nodded, accepting that was probably as much acknowledgement as she was going to give to the fierce-looking lump forming above her eye. "And considering you've just managed a lucid conversation, I think it's probably safe for you to try to get some more sleep now."

Sanem nodded, shyly glancing at the bed she was currently sat on. It was ornate, and not just in comparison to where she'd been sleeping for the last two weeks. She hadn't had the chance to appreciate it before, but the bedding was gentle against her hands despite how intricate the embroidery was, time had turned the material and stitching soft. She wondered if it had been stolen from the ship of some conceited royal Admiral, the thought made her smile though she was aware it most likely looked a bit giddy. She probably just needed to sleep. Letting the purring cat free of her arms before Gypsy padded her way down to the foot of the bed and curled up in a ball in a way that made Sanem suspicious as to whether she'd slept here before.

Sanem's limbs seemed to climb under feather stuffed duvet with less resistance than her mind would have allowed under normal circumstances, and she just found herself sighing and closing her eyes as she felt the dip of Can's weight on the other side of the mattress. The lack of shifting of the warm and downy quilt suggesting he'd respectfully opted to sleep on top of it instead. Sanem was almost disappointed to find herself growing drowsy before she'd even had time to properly appreciate the situation she was in.

 

* * *

 

The first thing she became conscious of when she woke the next morning was the arduous thumping that had taken over every corner of her head, the first traces of dawn were peeking through the broken window at the end of the room, a slight breeze brushing through the thin curtains, and it became obvious that the pain in her skull had caused her to wake up prematurely. Gypsy had curled up against her back, but Sanem soon realised the cat wasn't the only one that had sought out a bigger, warmer body to cling onto during the night. She'd somehow managed to snuggle herself as close to Can as she could possibly get, her head (the side that was unimpaired) resting comfortably over his shoulder, his arm, consciously or not, held guardedly around her waist. Her hands scrunched into the shirt at his side in what could also be described as a mortifying attempt to hold onto him.

Sanem stayed still for a moment, steadying her breathing as she debated whether she was willing to risk waiting long enough for him to rise and discover their bodies half tangled together. She decided she wasn't. Carefully prying herself out of his grip, glancing for a moment at the stillness of his sleeping face before sneaking out of the door with Gypsy, on legs that were now slightly wobbly for an entirely different reason.

The morning air was soothing as it played through her sleep ruffled hair. She took a deep breath, smiling at Metin who was still awake up in the crow's nest, finishing off his eventful watch shift. He climbed down when he noticed her. Using a loose rope from the rail line to slip down with a controlled grace onto the deck.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Better." She nodded.

"The lump on your head's gone down, but that bruise is gonna last a while," He winced sympathetically as he noticed the purple hues that were beginning to seep in above and around her eye.

"It's fine. My first war wound right?" She grinned proudly.

"Indeed," He smiled back. "But try not to make a habit out of it, alright?"

Sanem laughed gently. "Alright."

 

* * *

 

The day passed quietly, after being given a tentative all-clear for Guliz, Sanem had been allowed to spend the day free from chores, both as an allowance for being injured and because it was her last day on the ship.

Her last day. The thought left an ache in her heart that she couldn't quite place, she'd not felt it often before, but it reminded her of the same moment she'd stood watching the lights of her village blinking in the darkness before she'd walked away. Sanem tried not to dwell on that too much.

Can found her staring at the same empty page of her sketchbook she'd been stuck on for the last hour while waiting for the dawn sun to settle more confidently in the sky, greeting her and earning a shy smile in return before he'd left her in peace, excusing Metin from the helm as the others began to stir downstairs.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, avoiding ships as they appeared in the far distance and soon finding themselves in sight of the Ikaran coast. There was nothing wrong with Sanem's head internally but she was finding it difficult to draw anything more complicated than barren shapes and dull lines, as they waited for darkness to fall before daring to approach any closer, called in like a moth to a flame by the bright lights and the humming port of the capital city. They crept within reach of a cove a safe distance from Katiket, where Sanem could be paddled to shore.

With a tightness in her chest, she packed her art supplies and her cat into the bag Can had provided to replace the one she'd lost. Returning to the main deck to find the whole crew waiting to say goodbye. 

It hurt. And she really hadn't expected it to, but smothered with hugs, pats on the back and a weight of farewells she found her eyes welling up slightly. Even Deren pulled Sanem into her arms in a display of unexpected cordiality, before coughing and fondly saying "now fuck off, and try not to get yourself nearly killed again."

Can stood next to the winch leaning over the side of the boat, carrying the wooden dinghy that would take her to shore, as she pulled away from the last of the goodbyes.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Nearly," She agreed, handing over the sheathed dagger that had been in her bag. "But I believe I have something of yours."

"Keep it," He offered, with a spark of something warm in his eyes she couldn't quite figure out. "You've earned it."

 

* * *

 

The wet pebbles shifted slightly under her feet as she stepped back onto dry land for the first time in a little over a fortnight. Returned to solid ground, but she didn't feel as steady as she'd expected, as if missing the comforting sway of the ship she'd grown familiar with.

Her feet refused to move, but there was nothing stubborn about it, a passive resistance as she tried to convince herself that the absence of joy in her heart was entirely normal, despite finally being back in the country she'd been missing. Her family, only a few days walk to the west and probably rightfully worrying over where she'd disappeared to; Katiket, sitting in all its splendour a short distance to the east, where she would find Sinan, most likely reading under the light of a dim oil lamp. She was home.

So why didn't it feel like it?

"You okay?" Can asked from where he'd been attentively watching the back of her head from where he stood next to the wooden paddle boat.

"Yeah," The words came out almost as wobbly as her legs had been last night, as she tried to remember what it was she'd even been looking for in the city. A way of replacing the book her mother had destroyed? Can had already done that.

To find Sinan, so she could stay with him for a while as she revived and expanded her collection of sketches? To eventually sell them so she had enough money to-

To what? No longer be a burden to her parents? To find her own freedom in a life she actually wanted to be living?

She turned back to Can, who was patiently waiting with a slightly curious look in his eyes, as the water fell calmly in cold, feather-light waves against the pebbled beach.

Hadn't she already found all of that? And more, so much more - she'd found friends who actually cared about her, a family who didn't find it strange when she spent hours at a time sat in the crow's nest with that book of hers in her lap, and somewhere she could do more than just  _exist_  as she lived out the rest of the fatedly dull and overbearingly safe life her parents had made for her.

She'd found a new home. And she didn't want to leave.

"Can..." But she wasn't even entirely sure what her question was.

A knowing smile crept onto his face, filled with something softer than arrogance as he pushed the dinghy back towards the water.

"It's getting a bit cold," He noted casually. "Might be about time we headed back. Whatcha think?"

Sanem smiled, a feeling of gratitude flooding her heart at the realisation she wouldn't have to fumble through an explanation and a plea to stay.

"Thank you," She whispered as he offered a hand to help her climb back into the little boat, the small wooden hull tumbling over the rounded pebbles before it was made buoyant by the depth of the water as Can pushed it out against the waves, jumping in himself a moment later and taking ahold of the oars.

Looking back towards the Kotu Kral, it's red and gold sails silhouetted by the silver glow of the moonlight, Sanem wondered, once again, if she was making the most foolish decision of her life. But glancing back at Can as he quietly rowed them back towards the ship, she found herself struggling to care. 

 


	15. A Strike Of Lightning

Can felt like he had just been punched in the face. Which was understandable, considering he just had been, but it wasn't only his nose that was aching something fierce, a tight and relentless pain coiling in his heart, the same that had been living there in various stages of grief for the last two years. Every agonising ounce of regret that he'd been trying so hard to bury rising straight to the surface, as the only woman he had ever truly loved collided back into his life for a painfully brief and beautiful moment, before walking away. Disappearing, once again, like a shadow into the night, like a whisper lost in the noise of conversation, swallowed by the darkness of the side alleys of Touson as he stared after her, too stunned to move.

 

* * *

 

Sanem felt the rain before she saw it. The darkness having hidden the heavy grey clouds that had been lurking overhead. Tiny splashes of cold falling gently against her face that seemed so out of place considering how temperate the evening had been so far, and how warm the tears felt as they trailed down her cheeks. Allowing only a few to escape before she brushed the trails away with the back of her hand, shaking her head to dislodge everything that her mind was clinging onto. The image of his face, smiling and shocked and so unfairly happy to see her. And those eyes. Eyes that were now nothing more than a painful reminder of everything she'd had to give up, and everything she'd been trying so hard to move on from.

She walked as fast as she could, the others scrambling to keep up behind as she followed the path back to her ship. Her home. Letting out a sigh as the familiar sight came into view, trying to ignore Ceycey’s inebriated excitement over who they’d just run into, and Deren’s pleas for him to ‘shut the hell up’. Her lungs were almost aching when she heard the comforting creak of the Albatross’ floorboards under her feet again.

Giving a brief glance to check everyone was on board. Sharing a nod to Osman who appeared to be sat half-way through a game of cards with his sister and Deniz, hunkered over a makeshift table formed from a plank of wood and two oak barrels.  _So they had stayed._ She’d give herself time to process that later.

Osman frowned at the look on her face - which Sanem, naturally, could not see, but assumed looked justifiably startled and pale.

Deren shouted the orders so Sanem wouldn't have to. The ships heavy ropes untangling from the dock’s cleats and allowing them to drift away. Deren gently caught her captains arm a moment after the sails were set loose and Sanem had made a beeline for her cabin.

“Are you alright?”

Sanem nodded. “Just get us out of here, okay?”

 

* * *

 

Once his heart had stilled and his mind had cleared, Can found his feet instinctively walking along the path she’d just disappeared down, his men following behind as they tried to keep pace.

 _Be still. Just be still and let me reach you, we’ve spent too long in this game._  But the Albatross had already set sail by the time he had reached the harbour, as fast as he’d been walking, Sanem had been walking faster, and the brief minutes of shock had given her all the time she needed to slip away from him. Like trying to catch the feather of a dandelion with his bare hands, every move he made just pushed her further out of his reach.

He just wanted her back, to be able to talk to her, to explain what had happened. It was the same need that had been fueling every one of his decisions since the night he’d lost her. He just wanted to apologise. To say the words he’d been practising for the last two years, which were now just crumbling into ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry’. He didn’t even care if she said it back.

He found his ship, though to call it ‘his’ was not entirely true. It was heavy and clunky despite its small size, and entirely unfamiliar, like stepping into somebody else’s well-worn shoes. But it was all he had for now. The men stood as he entered, preparing the ship in the disorganised rush as their night-off abruptly ended with his shout of command.

Can climbed up the stairway leading to the helm, looking out over the darkly cast sea for any sign of the Albatross; the twinkling of a lantern, the flail of a canvas in the wind. But there was nothing. The horizon was pitch black and her ship had so easily nestled straight into the foggy darkness like it always did.

Barely even noticing the rain as it began to fall more heavily, drenching through his clothing and chilling his skin, Can was left futilely attempting to follow.

 

* * *

 

It was a fact unanimously accepted among sailors that the worst thing about living on a boat was the rain. Understandably, the hull of any ship was carefully designed to keep water out, in the sea - where it should be. But the wooden flooring of the Albatross’ main deck, which, when you think about it, was also the roof above the crews sleeping quarters, had a tendency to leak. And, as you could imagine, attempting to sleep with a constant trickle of water droplets hitting your nose tended to put a damper on things.

The only moderately rain-free rooms were either deep below deck, which felt damp for an entirely different reason, or in the cabins - which were far too small for everyone to fit, unless they packed themselves in like a bunch of sardines.

So, the few that were supposed to be sleeping were not, and had joined those suffering out on deck. The normally amiable ship groaning under the frustrations of the weather.

Perhaps it was just the unpredictability of the wind, but her Albatross was being particularly stubborn. Sanem had a suspicion that if it were left unattended for even a minute, the boat would have merrily turned itself back around and headed straight towards where they’d last seen Can. There was a part of Sanem that wanted to let it.

But there was an even stronger part of her that wanted to run, that had insisted she snuff out every single source of light on the boat to prevent them being seen, so her sneaky assassin of a ship could melt into the shadows in which it was so comfortable.

Hours passed and the rain grew heavier. The wind whipping through the rails lines and tugging violently on the sails. Sanem stood by the helm, trying to keep the wheel straight with one hand while using the other to fight against the sky’s adamant attempts to steal her hat.

A static was building in the air, she could feel it on her skin, but as rough as the waters had become they were still safe enough to pass through, and she hadn’t yet satiated the need to get as far away as possible.

It took her a while longer to realise the tingling on her skin was from more than just the onset of a storm, as the first tender flashes of light arched across the sky, only seconds later followed by the shake of thunder that seemed to rattle deep within her chest. Yet the hairs on her arms still stood on end, the same way they did when she could sense something wasn’t quite right, like the time she’d climbed down into warm water to surround herself with a family of dolphins, feeling the same tingle of fear down the back of her neck a few minutes later, before she turned to find another had approached - another with sharper features and even sharper teeth.

She’d seen enough to add the creatures to her sketchbooks, but stayed no longer than she’d needed to. And now she was hoping that whatever was lurking would ignore them long enough for the Albatross to move away, just as the shark had.

“Something’s out there,” Sanem warned as Deren approached, letting her voice carry over the noise of the wind.

“Can?”

“No,” Sanem shook her head. “Whatever it is, it’s not friendly,” She wasn’t sure if she would have called Can ‘friendly’ either, but this was something sinister on a whole nother level. "Tell Guliz to keep her eyes open."

"Aye, aye captain."

 

* * *

 

The storm was loud in his ears, but it still didn’t rival the sound of the pounding in his heart. There was no way of knowing which direction she had gone, and he was half certain that the morning light would greet him to a completely empty horizon, that he was fumbling like a blind man after something that was already long gone. But he had to at least try. This was the closest he’d gotten in years and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

He watched as the sky split open for a moment in a brief flash of dazzling light.

And then he saw it. The dark silhouette of the Albatross only a few miles ahead.

But the smile that had been creeping onto his face was soon broken by the realisation that the lightning had illuminated something else.

Another ship. A big beast of a thing that was looming over Sanem’s boat like a lion staring down at an oblivious mouse. It wasn’t obvious if the ships had noticed each other yet, the clash of thunder masking any potential cannon fire.

The warship was an equal distance away from Sanem to Can’s own, but if a flash in the distance had allowed him to see them, it was only a matter of time before another misplaced lightning strike caused all violent hell to break loose.

 

* * *

 

It was a small mercy - and Sanem was sure she deserved a few after the day she’d had - that Guliz’s keen eyes had managed to catch sight of the navy ship before its occupants noticed the Albatross, the glow of its lanterns barely distinguishable through the haze of the downpour.

A few of her crew nervously joined her by the helm, rainwater streaming down their faces and making their clothes stick to their skin, under any other situation she might have found the sight amusing.

“What are we going to do?” Deniz didn’t shout often but the wind was making it necessary.

“We’ll be fine,” Sanem promised, but even the words needed some convincing. “If we keep out in front and they shouldn’t be able to shoot at us.” As long as they didn’t have chaser guns, but she wasn’t about to unnecessarily stress everyone further by pointing that out.

“That doesn't seem like a very solid long term plan,” Deren interjected, but still passed the message along to the rest of the crew so they could prepare to readjust the sails.

“I’m thinking, okay!” Sanem was aware she was rapidly running out of time.

They couldn’t outrun them with how temperamental the winds were being, and combat wasn’t an option, unless they wanted to get themselves killed; a ship that size would house a crew that would outnumber her own four to one. But the Albatross' weakness in size was also its biggest asset, for someone who knew how to utilize it. “Deniz. How far away are the Hummingbird Islands?”

Deniz pulled the compass out of her pocket, brushing over the glass surface that was quickly fogging up from the cold rain. “Maybe a couple of miles north-east… I don’t really know.”

“How can you not know?” Deren yelled. “You’re our navigator. Navigate!”

“In case you hadn't noticed, Deren. We can’t fucking see anything! There’s no visible landmarks to use as reference points, the stars are all clouded over, what do you expect me to-”

Another flash. Loud and brutal and wild, as it tore through the sky and set the whole horizon alight for long enough for Sanem’s heart to stop, and a moment later, jump start again from the sheer shock of cold panic as her eyes caught sight of the hostile and familiar flag of green, white and red.

Deren was staring wide-eyed at it too. “Isn’t that-”

“Fabri’s ship?” Sanem gulped. “Yep.”

“Didn’t you-”

“Murder his father?” She nodded. She really hoped that one day she’d stop running into men that she had such unfortunate histories with. “Mm-hmm.”

But while the attention of the others had been understandably drawn towards the threat that was heading straight towards them, Guliz had taken the few seconds of opportunity offered by the light to attempt to do something productive, searching around for any lump or mound on the horizon - any indication of land.

“That way!” She exclaimed when she saw it, the others spinning round to the direction she was pointing, as the view returned to pitch black. “I think I saw the Islands.”

“Well, ‘think’ is probably as good as we’re gonna get right now.” Sanem conceded, having to tug the ornery wheel around with her whole weight and facing them towards their only chance of getting out of this unscathed.

 

* * *

 

Sanem knew these islands, had spent peaceful days exploring every inch of the whole chain in search of the various birds that lived here, while her crew had waited patiently back on the ship and on the few sandy beaches. The waters were shallow and rocky. Treacherous at night for any ship larger than her own, a fact she was preparing to take full advantage of.

Of course, there was every chance she might end up beaching her own ship, like trying to thread a line through the eye of a needle behind your own back, but she was hoping - praying - that as long as she could trust her crew and her ship, that they might just manage to make this work, and escape any intention Fabri had of sending them all to the gallows.

It may have been her eyes deceiving her but she was certain the sky to the east wasn’t looking as black as it had been before, but she wasn’t yet sure that was a blessing or a curse. If the rising sun let her see a path safely through the islands, then Fabri would be able to see too, and her trap wouldn’t work.

Another boom. But this time there was no accompanying flash, and the noise sounded suspiciously like it had come from behind rather than overhead.

A split second later, something heavy and forcefull splashed into the water beside them, narrowly missing injuring the stern of her ship.

Sanem spun around. Fabri’s naval vessel still following behind, as the dimmest flicker of light appeared at the bow of the ship, followed by another explosion that narrowly avoided tearing a hole straight through the Albatross’ jib sail as it flew past.

 _Chaser cannons._  Well, that’s just unfair.

But their pursuers were still shooting blind - she had the home advantage for now.

A third explosion. And then a fourth, but it took her a few moments to realise the warships attacks had now been focused on something else. Another smaller vessel had joined parallel and was taking the heat of the fire.

Sanem could feel the change in the waves as they edged closer to land, her ship groaning from the turbulence and her heart flipping when a jagged rock rose out of the water a mere few meters to their left.

Theoretically, she knew that the islands would deflect the strongest of the winds, guide them in a path between the gaps in the landmasses, but it still felt like one of the most reckless things she had ever done when she finally let go of the helm and watched it spin in terrifying circles as she gave into the mercy of the winds.

 

* * *

 

Can realised what was happening the moment the Albatross taunted the warship to chase. Leading larger boats into shallow waters was one of Sanem’s favourite playing cards, though it was going to be one hell of a gamble in the darkness. He knew only vaguely that the islands were nearby, but he assumed, or at least hoped, that Sanem must have known what she was doing.

Something dropped in his stomach when he heard the first barrage of cannon fire.

He knew it was stupid, and his crew stared at him as if he’d just freshly dug their graves and asked them to jump in, but when he gave the command to engage the navy vessel, they obeyed anyway.

He got the first strike, taking them by surprise, but their retaliation was intense. He was sure his ship was being blown to tatters, but as long as they were ignoring Sanem nothing else really mattered.

 

* * *

 

The sun finally came up at just the right moment. Giving enough light, despite the rain, for Sanem to pick out the shadows of the islands, without leaving Fabri enough time to manoeuvre out of the way of the sharp rocks he was heading straight into.

The Albatross had seen them safely through, skirting around the craggy outskirts between the two landmasses rising up on either side.

She watched as the smaller ship behind them fell back, turning to follow the safe path of water as the larger vessel hit dry land. The pained rumble of the hull against the rocky shoreline was almost as loud as the thunder had been. It would take them hours to get untangled from the rocks - if the damage even allowed them to sail away.

The adrenaline seeping out of everyone's veins was replaced with a triumphant buzz as Ceycey and a few of the others cheered.

Sanem let out a deep breath. Only to groan again at the sight of the new problem she had to deal with.

The smaller boat was approaching, and although it was not one she recognised, it didn’t take a genius to figure out who was on board.

 


	16. Dancing Turtles And Smuggler's Ships

**Four Years And Eleven Months Ago.**

Gentle beams of light reached down through the water around her, turned blue by the candescence of the surrounding ocean. The seabed was bright and colourful below her feet. The rainbow of fish had danced away when she’d initially swam closer in curiosity, but were now moving lazily and aimlessly in and around the plants that made their homes, sunlight shimmering off their backs as they moved, like the way sunlight would dance off shards of glass when you caught the angle just right.

Waves, the sound muffled under the water, fell against the sandy beach a short distance behind her. The lull of their movements made silent the moment she had immersed herself entirely. Her eyes blinking open and fighting off the sting of the saltwater, feeling her body held weightless as rays of warmth touched the skin along her shoulders and back. Her gaze following the slow path of the unfamiliar creature swimming beside her.

A turtle. Sanem had not seen one before, it was Can who had informed her of its name after she’d been watching from the deck of the ship, captivated like a child discovering a frog in a garden pond for the very first time. The turtle's arms trailed seamlessly through the water, twisting and turning in a kind of slow dance as it made its way around where Sanem was floating, still and silent, trying to store every movement in her mind for later. She’d never drawn reptiles before. But this one almost looked like it was flying, so maybe she would make an exception.

Her heartbeat slowed as it came closer, mirroring the beat of the calm tumble of waves, wanting to reach out and touch it; to know what the feel of the shell would be like under her fingertips, but not wanting to startle it after all the time she’d spent trying to coax the unfamiliar creature into accepting her presence.

It stayed for a few beautiful moments, hovering in curious circles around her before it departed, heading into deeper water and leaving Sanem to return to the surface with a gasped breath.

The sun was even warmer against her skin without the layer of water above to refract it, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. She’d never been anywhere so warm. Never swam in oceans that didn’t leave her cold and shivering afterwards. Not that it had ever stopped her.

Only a month had passed since she’d chosen to stay on the Kotu Kral, but more of the world had been shown to her than she’d had the opportunity to even dream about in the whole of her life before she’d joined them. She almost didn’t believe Deren when she said there was still so much more to see.

Sanem glanced around, noticing for the first time that her attempts to follow the turtle had led her halfway around the little island the ship had set anchor beside. Uninhabited; far out of reach of crown’s guard and navy vessels, the ocean stretching out for endless miles, any view of unfamiliar ships pleasantly lacking.

They’d endured no further ill-advised attempts at pillaging the Kotu Kral. It appeared that any wayfaring rumours that Can Divit was in possession of the key to Anaiga had died along with those who had tried to steal it from them. After commandeering their assailant's ship, they’d travelled south to sell it at a small pirate bay Sanem had never heard of. Restocking before setting off again under Can’s continued efforts to follow the contumacious glass key. But attempts to work out where they were supposed to be going remained pitiful.

Needing the stars to be visible, the captain had spent most of his nights awake sailing the ship around in circles with a small rotating group of crew to man the sails. While most of the daylight had been spent unwinding - a calmness that Sanem had initially condemned as laziness but soon realized was simply a need to heal and rest after the torment of battle. She wasn’t the only one with war wounds. But the bruises on her face had healed weeks ago, even if she’d tried to bargain with the gods that she might get away with being able to spend another night in Can’s bed. Evening fell and the courage had disappeared. Returning back to her hammock below deck next to Guliz and the others, as whatever bravery had fuelled her forwardness the previous night dissipated along with the throbbing over her eye.

Sanem headed back towards land, choosing to walk along the edge of the island rather than swim back to where the others were resting. Enjoying the shift of sand under her toes as the breeze began to dry her hair.

The clothes she was wearing belonged to Deren, lightweight enough so that Sanem wouldn’t ‘drown herself’ as Deren had put it, yet scantily clad enough that the distance she’d put between herself and the others might not have been a complete accident.

Sanem was not the only one who had ventured into the water, it was almost difficult to feel shy when most of the crew were as bare-skinned as she was. Yet the stubborn warmth in her cheeks returned as she approached, sitting next to Deren on the edge of the lazing group, picking up the cloak she had left there and letting herself become concealed inside it as the redhead shifted through the sand for shells. Placing pretty ones on Metin’s bare chest when she found them, and even handing Sanem a delicate, purple spiralled one in greeting. Sanem slipped it inside her pocket, smiling in thanks and the unexpectedness of the gesture.

Can was nowhere to be found. Most likely asleep on this ship after a long night, no doubt with that flirt of a cat of hers. Sanem wasn’t sure if she was glad he wasn’t on the beach with them, aware that her face would have turned a burning red if he’d been present to see her in the outfit that would have banished her straight to a nunnery if she’d been caught wearing it back in her village.

Metin had been awake all night too, but was choosing to sleep on the beach rather than in his cabin, one arm slung over his eyes to keep out the light, and Deren to prod him awake if his skin became too pink. Which was no easy task considering the tans most of them had earned from being unsheltered underneath the sun for days on end.

Sanem watched as Guliz played in that water, defying Tursuan’s insistence that she wouldn’t be able to find any pearls amongst the oysters she was diving for. Most of the rest of the crew were lazing around in various groups, either in the water or on the beach.

This was not at all what Sanem had been expecting when she’d decided to stay, though Metin had warned this was a calm and welcome abnormality to their usual lives out on the sea. Sanem wasn’t eager to find out what that meant. Though she’d already had a taster, she wasn’t yet ready to dig into a whole meal.

Deren found another coiled shell, lifting it closer for inspection before turning to a confused Sanem, a finger held against her lips as she placed the most recent addition to her collection on Metin’s chest. Sanem’s eyes followed as a few pointy legs poked out from under the shell, the creature holding itself upright as it suddenly began scuttling across his skin.

Metin bolted awake. The tickle of it pulling him out of a half state of consciousness as he swatted the poor creature away in reflex, the rest of the shells tumbling onto his lap.

“Fabulous. Now you're awake.” Deren smiled cheekily at him as he made sense of what had just happened. Giving his girlfriend a look that was half a smile and half an ‘I’ll get you back later.”

Sanem was still getting used to their relationship; it was so different from anything she’d grown up around, playful and honest and unapologetic. A slight cultural shock when comparing the reserved and private dynamic that her parents had, that Leyla and her husband had, that Sanem had been expected to have herself. The freedom of being a pirate seemed to seep into everything about them. Unrestrained by the niceties of social etiquette, sitting in each other’s laps unabashed, sharing the same tankard of whatever the hell it was they kept in the wooden kegs in the cargo hold. It was a type of everyday intimacy that was unfamiliar to Sanem, but that she was feeling herself start to want too.

She tried to bury that thought as she picked up the hermit crab from where it had landed, fussing her eyes over it in distraction as it retreated back into its shell. Trying not to let her mind wander back to the moment she had woken up with Can’s arm around her waist.

It was silly, really, annoying and childish and just some sort of psychological, white-knight gratitude nonsense. It would go away eventually.

Deren turned back towards her, breaking her conversation with Metin as she noticed Sanem staring at the shelled crab with what was possibly a little  _too_  much interest. "Whatcha thinking about?"

Sanem glanced up. "Nothing," Placing the crab back on the sand, trying to think of a way to divert the conversation. "Metin, how did you become a pirate?" It was an honest question, she’d been wondering for a while; he was far too educated to have been born into this lifestyle, one of the few on the ship that could open a book without staring blankly at the words. “If you don’t mind me asking?”

“No that’s fine, it’s not a secret or anything.” He smiled, as if happy to have been handed the opportunity to share a story. “My dad was a pirate, apparently - that’s what my mom said at least. I was born in a little village in the middle of nowhere, I think there was a part of my mom that wanted to keep me as far away from the ocean as possible, to resist any innate temptation I might have had to venture out in it. But that plan didn’t really work.” He smiled again, something sad in his eyes masked as he quickly moved on after a beat. “As soon as I turned eighteen I joined the navy, I never had any intention of mingling myself with pirates, I wanted to be out on the sea but I wanted to be an  _honourable_  sailor. Not fully understanding what that meant at the time.”

Sanem could feel the slight change in temperature as the sun continued moving past its peak in the sky, it wasn’t getting cold, but the sting of the sun was dimming. Perhaps she’d been swimming for a little too long, she hadn’t been paying attention.

“I stayed for maybe a year or two, slowly growing frustrated with the chain of command,” Metin sighed. “It became obvious to me after a few overheard conversations that there was nothing honourable about the men I was working for. I thought I was going to be helping to defend my country, and instead found myself a part of a scheme to snuff out smuggling efforts along the coast. It wasn’t the most prestigious of jobs but I stuck with it for a while, after all, smugglers were technically breaking the law, I felt like I was doing some sort of good, even if I did find the laws that condemned them a bit unjustified.”

They watched as Guliz finally left the water, sitting with a small group of others, as she began prying open her collection of oysters with a knife.

“And then the famine hit,” Metin continued. “Everyone was starving, people were dying, people I’d grown up with, people I loved. I thought maybe we would leave the smugglers alone, focus our efforts somewhere else and turn a blind eye to the ships that were sneaking into coves in the middle of the night. At that point most of what they were bringing in was wheat. Food. Selling untaxed to those that desperately needed it as prices in the rest of the kingdom skyrocketed.”

Deren gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm.

“But the assholes in charge just ordered us to hit even harder. I wasn’t the only one who felt conflicted about it, but I was the only one brave enough to take a stand, and the next time we came across a smuggling ship I found myself fighting for the opposite side. Naturally, it didn’t end well.” His eyes flashed with a warm fondness that rivalled the few brief moments Sanem had caught her father gazing at his wife in a moment of unashamed vulnerability. “And that’s when I met this one.” He indicated towards Deren.

“The idiot managed to get himself locked up with the rest of us,” Deren rolled her eyes.

“You were a smuggler?” Sanem asked, smiling.

“It’s a gateway drug as they say,” Deren shrugged. “My family dabbled in illegal trading - nothing black market, just avoiding all the official ports so we didn’t have to pay import taxes or whatever. It was more profitable that way.”

“And then you got caught?”

“Yeah. I won’t lie, I was sure I was about to die when I first noticed the king’s ship approaching, but I never expected one of their own to turn around and start helping us during the fight. It was a sweet gesture. But we all ended up in jail anyway, and with pirate brands burned into our skin.” To prove her point, she twisted her arm to reveal the skin underneath her wrist, revealing a scar that looked like a faint circle with an x cutting through it, but what was probably supposed to resemble a skull and crossbones. “Not that I mind, I think they look pretty cool.”

“How did you get out?”

“Can rescued us.” Deren answered.

“Well, technically he didn’t rescue us.”Metin countered. “We were just an after effect of infiltrating the stockade in search of a few members of his mother’s crew, this was before he had the Kral -”

“Wait, Can’s mother is a pirate?”

“Yeah, she sails the Kara Ejderha.” Metin nodded.

“Black Dragon?” An image was already forming in her mind, a dark oak ship with black sails and a serpent-like figurehead; the sort of ship that would make every corner of your soul tremble in fear. It sounded awesome.

Deren hummed in affirmation. “It suits her too, bit of a bitch that one.”

“I’ve never heard of her.” Sanem was sure she would have recognised the name of an infamous lady pirate, there were enough men to provide characters for a whole playground.

“Not many have, she has a tendency to kill anyone that she doesn’t want knowing her name.” Metin explained.

Deren leaned closer to Sanem, giving a small wink as she whispered. “Not the sort of women you’d want as a mother-in-law.”

Sanem gapped, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the mischievous expression in Deren’s eyes while attempting to dampen down the fire that had erupted over every inch of her face, turning back to Metin to prompt him into diverting her attention. “Sorry, I interrupted your original story?”

“It was mostly finished anyway,” Metin reassured. “Can found the men he’d been looking for, got them all out and helped us escape too, we’ve been following him ever since.”

“So Can was born a pirate?” The question flowed out naturally but Sanem was still glad the change of topic made Deren stop looking at her funny.

Metin nodded. “Both his parents are pirates - his story is a bit complicated. I should probably let him tell it for himself...”

“Oh,” The beach grew quiet again, but despite the short time she’d known them, the silence was comfortable rather than awkward. Living in such close proximity to a group of people had elevated whatever bonding process tide them together, and was quickly extending itself to Sanem, they already felt like more of a family than she had ever known. Though there was still a sting in her heart whenever she thought of her sister. She turned to Metin. “Your mom. Did you ever see her again?”

He stayed quiet for a minute, that same tint of sadness returning to his eyes. “No.”

He didn’t elaborate, but Sanem felt no need to push. Returning back to silence before it was broken a moment later by Guliz’s squeal of excitement. Sanem looked over to find her beaming down at what must have been a pearl, but it was hard to make out from the short distance, so it was probably only a tiny one.

Metin pushed himself onto his feet. “We should probably head back to the ship now, shift change isn’t too far away and I think Tursuan’s ears are turning to coal from the sun.”

He held out a hand for Deren, pulling her to her feet before extending an arm to Sanem as well. A few of the others grumbled when he told them playtime was over but they all clambered back into the boat that had brought them to shore, balancing precariously to fit everyone inside as they began to paddle towards the ship in the distance. The sail eclipsing the sun as they got closer. But all sense of intimidation that had stirred inside her at the same sight a month ago had been replaced by a feeling of ease and security. This was home. And she felt like she never wanted to leave. 


	17. Humming Birds

**Four Years And Ten Months Ago.**

Sanem's pencils had become frustratingly small. Having whittled them down to the point where they either slipped out of her grasp or strained her hand whenever she attempted to add to her brimming collection of drawings. Her sketchbook was impressive. Without anyone around to scold her of idle doodling, her gathering of hand-drawn birds and animals was growing like a nurtured sapling under the summer sun; turning into something far bigger than she'd originally anticipated. The turtle had turned out beautifully despite her more weighted practice towards feathered creatures. After sitting down to capture it in careful etchings she'd found herself two hours later with the it sprawled across three whole pages at various angles and poses.

She'd since filled up another ten, and her pencils were suffering for it. Despite having turned the whole ship upside down in search, she'd found no replacement; Can had offered a quill and ink from his desk but it was not a medium she was familiar with and her endeavours to change that had lost her whole pages to inky, messy scribbles.

Sanem sighed, looking down at the half-drawn hummingbird on her lap, it's head and wings fully fleshed out while its lower half had been abandoned as only faint trace lines, pushing the pencil back into its usual spot in the binding of the book to return to it later.

Sanem glared at the hardened patches of skin contrasting against the soft palm of her hand - the mild callouses a recent acquisition from the sparing practise Metin had been putting her through. She was pretty shit at it. It turned out that working in a bakery had in no way prepared her for skill in sword fighting, her mind had memorised every pattern and technique she'd observed and analysed while watching the others fight, but her muscles still protested moving the way she wanted them too. Her arms slow and her legs tripping over themselves.

The practise was mortifying, but there was no unkindness in their tone when the others taunted 'why would you give a sword to a lamb?" But Metin had advised, and Sanem had agreed, that it would be better to avoid a repetition of what happened the night of the ambush. She needed to be able to defend herself.

Metin had handed her a sword for the first time as the gathering audience around them made her groan, glancing down at the offered weapon before squinting her eyes at her sparing teacher.

"Are you kidding?"

"What?" He asked, the humour in his eyes giving away the jest behind his reply.

"It's wooden."

Metin smiled, there was almost something smug about it, but it was mostly just playful. "Well, we wouldn't want you hurting yourself would we?"

Any progress she'd made in the last few weeks was almost infinitesimal, but it was progress nonetheless.

Can found her absentmindedly staring out at the water, glancing down at the half-finished hummingbird in the leatherbound book that was perched on her knees over the brown folds of her dress.

They needed to get her new clothes. Something that wouldn't hinder her during their usual pirate shenanigans. He added that to the list.

Can sat down beside her, enjoying the moment of fluster when she realised who was joining her, but it soon faded and a warm smile took its place.

"Why do you like birds so much?" He asked sincerely, pointing towards her sketchbook.

Her forehead ruffled for a moment in a way he couldn't help but notice was adorable. "I don't know. I grew up near a fishing town, I guess they were the most interesting thing around."

"But there must have been something that made them interesting in the first place?" He prompted gently. She loved the sound of his voice, deep and melodic in a way that made her skin tingle but also made her feel calm at the same time, there was something almost meditative about it.

He watched her teeth bite onto the edge of her lower lip as she thought. "Maybe it's because they are free, maybe I liked the idea of being able to get up and go wherever I wanted, like they could. But that's probably a bit heavy to be going through the mind of a twelve-year-old."

"You've been drawing since you were twelve?"

"Yeah," She nodded. "I was pretty awful back then though."

Can smiled. "How did you learn? Aren't books and pencils a bit luxurious for a little-village girl?"

"My friend helped me with that. Sinan - he was also the one who taught me to read." A fond smile lingered on her face as her eyes became lost in the memory. "He was the one I was looking for in Katiket. His family owned the estate surrounding my village, they moved to their city house when he started university. We met in the back fields when we were just kids, and he started sneaking things out of his mother's personal art collection so I could upgrade from scribbling things in chalk against the walls of buildings."

There was something forlorn in her expression when she finished, it made him wonder. "Were you, uh," He cleared his throat. "Were you together, romantically?"

Sanem turned to look at him, shaking her head slowly. "No," He could almost feel the quiet invitation in her tone, but then she blinked almost as if she'd been shocked by herself, before she continued. "He left for the city before he even started  _looking_  at girls, and I wasn't foolish enough to think we'd ever be more than friends. But we were both happy with that. I was company to him while he was lonely living in that big manor house, and in return, he helped me learn how to do this." She tapped a finger against the book.

"Can I take a look?" He asked, for a second he wasn't sure if she would agree, but she handed it over after a few moments, her hands fidgeting as he flickered through the pages for a few minutes, smiling. "Would you want one?"

She frowned at him in confusion.

"A bird, as a pet I mean." He handed the book back over to her. "There's a place we're going to in a few days where you can buy them. Colourful ones, noisy ones, fluffy ones, sharp-beaked ones. Whatever you want."

She thought for a moment. "No," She decided finally. "They're not meant to be pets, it wouldn't feel right. But... I am in need of some new pencils." She pulled out the stump of the one she had left to prove her point.

"I can see that," He laughed softly at the sight of it, his voice like cinnamon. "That shouldn't be too hard to arrange."

 

* * *

 

Sanem greeted Deren the next morning with bleary eyes and a wide yawn - the consequence of her early morning crew shift, as the redhead appeared through the doors that led to the cabins, emerging from her usual spot alongside Metin in his bed in the first mate's quarters.

She was well aware that the two were sleeping together, in every sense of the word. Being raised in a village like her own - with parents like her own, Sanem had never been taught the intricacies of what that meant, her mother too modest to ever approach the topic. But Sanem had studied animals enough to be aware of the biology behind it, the mechanics, so to speak. And Deren didn't seem like a particularly motherly type.

"Aren't you worried?" Sanem asked, having taken weeks to even feel confident enough to ask. "About any, um, unwanted consequences?" It wasn't as if the ship had a nursery on board.

"No," Deren replied simply, looking out at the cliffs of the coastline that was creeping closer. "I have my methods."

"What are they exactly?"

"Why?" Deren raised an eyebrow. "In case you need some yourself?"

Sanem was almost proud her cheeks only turned pink rather than burning crimson. "No." She folded her arms. "I'm just curious."

Deren fished something out of her clothing, tucked away in a leather compartment around her belt, retrieving a small corked vial that looked very much like the ones they'd confiscated of the drowning Wigeon. "It's a handy little thing." She tapped a finger against the glass. "My mom told me about it years ago, two drops in water when needed does the trick."

"Isn't that a poison?" Sanem frowned. "Wouldn't that be harmful?"

"A very specific type of poison. And it's as harmful as it needs to be." Deren shrugged dismissively. "You get used to it after a while."

But all thought of the conversation disappeared as the Kotu Kral emerged from behind the cover of the peninsula. Sanem watched as the formidable gathering of ships came into view, scattered over an extended and open cove that bordered the most chaotic looking city she had ever seen. Fear laced into a heavy heartbeat before shooting through her veins, Deren nearly laughed at the whiteness that had overtaken Sanem's face as she held her breath.

"Oh, calm down." Deren grinned, teasing yet reassuring at the same time. "Were not sailing into an armada, don't worry."

Sanem glanced at her, visibly nervous, seeking a valid reason for the hoard of pirate ships only a few miles in front of them. A few weeks of sparring was not nearly enough for Sanem to survive another fight unscathed.

"Welcome, Sanem, to your first pirate city." Deren waved an arm in mock theatrics towards the urbanised landmass in front of them. "This piece of shit is Touson, you're gonna love it." 

 


	18. Coloured Glass And A Flash Of Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Bluedove and moonlightkissed, you are babes x

**Four years and ten months ago.**

Autumn had fallen. Sanem could feel it against her skin, the sun too weak against layers of cold in the mist of the morning, goosebumps forming on her arms as she watched the others prepare the tender to head to the mainland. The last reminder of the home she’d once known sat purring beside her as Sanem turned to look back at the city. 

There was something eerily captivating about it as she watched, something that reminded her of the first time she’d stared upon a bee’s nest as a child. Humming with a living, breathing energy that she could hear - that she could feel, even seated a fair distance away as she was. And once again, Sanem was feeling a reckless and nagging desire to get closer, the curious part of her brain wanting to pry it open and explore inside. Perhaps, this time, she wouldn't get stung. 

But the select few who had been chosen to venture inland had already gathered and the roles for the expedition divided. Most of the crew had to stay behind with the ship, or else there was a more than likely chance it wouldn’t be there when they got back. Logically, Sanem had understood and agreed with that decision. 

And yet, she sat trying to convince herself that it was really, actually, nothing to be missing out on, her legs dangling over the side of the deck in a manner that would have given her mother a heart attack, as she distracted herself by running a hand through Gypsy’s fur. 

The group would be back by nightfall. That was the order Can had given, an easy ten hours for Guliz to gather her medical supplies with Muzo, for Metin and Deren to venture to the food market, and Can - well, Sanem wasn’t exactly sure what Can was planning on doing. But despite the instruction, the ship wouldn’t be setting sail again until the following morning, an order that had been greeted by an unusually excited energy from the crew. Sanem was still trying to figure out why.

She heard Can approach before she saw him, his familiar footfalls against the wooden deck as he emerged from the cabins and headed towards the gathering group leaving for the city. He rummaged through the bag over his shoulder, dispersing the necessary funds before taking roll call with his eyes. It only took a moment. His list was short, but it seemed shorter than he’d expected. 

She tried not to watch as he wavered, glancing around as if someone was missing. 

His eyes met hers. Something making her chest rush as his searching expression turned softer, though she wasn’t sure if it was him, or the suggestive look Deren was trying to send from behind the captain’s shoulder. But truthfully, Sanem hadn’t really been looking at the playful redhead. 

“Are you coming?” He asked her gently, the words an offer as much as a question.

Sanem started, she hadn't been expecting to. “Am I?” 

“Do you want to?” The barest hint of a smile playing across his face.

She found herself standing before she’d even answered the question. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

The harbour was busier than she’d expected. The noise of it growing as Metin rowed them closer, the same panic rising in her veins as the moment she’d realised that perhaps a few too many bees were hidden inside. She tried to remind herself the situation wasn’t the same - she was walking into a city of pirates not as an outsider, but as a pirate herself. Although to call herself that still tasted strange. Her introduction to the wayward lifestyle so far had remained rather sheltered, she wasn’t eager for that to change, but she was not a fool to think that it never would.

The wooden jetty looked about as stable as a support beam made of straw, but it didn’t wobble under his feet when Can jumped out of the skiff, and it felt sturdy enough under her own as she stepped onto it, yet, Can still felt the need to offer a hand to steady her. She took it, overly aware of how he let the contact linger for a few moments longer than necessary once she was steady on her feet, her palm tingling as his fingers brushed over the skin there. She wondered if he’d even noticed. 

Sanem wasn’t sure if Deren’s light shoulder bump was on purpose, but the cheeky look in her eyes seemed to be. 

They continued inland, but it seemed that was what everybody else was doing too. The cobblestone streets becoming more crowded as the briny smell of the docks drifted into the background. Sanem tried not to get left behind, feeling the need to link her arm through somebody else’s as she used to do with her sister when visiting town, but Can was the only one within reach and despite her heart thrumming in her chest she didn’t feel brave enough for that. Yet.

It took her a while to notice, but it became subtly obvious after she had, that the people they passed seemed to part around Can and his crew like a river flowing around a rock. 

All sense of infamy his name had stirred in her mind at their first meeting had been replaced by whatever comfort had grown between her and his crew, it was easy to forget she was living on the ship that technically belonged to the prince of the seas. To her, he was just Can. Can who had saved her cat, Can who had given her a new sketchbook, Can who had cared for her after she’d been kicked in the head. 

She'd seen so little of it herself, but it was clear his reputation was lurking like a shark in dark water, there was something about him that these people knew that she didn’t. Something that made them duck their heads and move out of the way. Maybe it should have frightened her, maybe that would have been the sensible response. Instead, she just found herself walking closer and frowning as she noticed a few women staring a little too interestedly in his direction.    

Still, she couldn’t help feeling a bit lost when the rest of the group splintered away at a crossroads, leaving her tugging at her sleeves as she turned towards Can. She wasn’t sure where she’d been expecting to go but she hadn’t anticipated being left alone with him.

He smiled. It melted away some of the nervousness she was feeling as he beckoned for her to follow further up the hill. 

They’d been walking in silence before but now with just the two of them Sanem was starting to feel it more. 

“Uh, so where are we going?” She asked, trying to walk beside him despite the wash of people walking in the other direction. _It couldn’t normally be this busy, could it?_

“There’s a couple of places,” He answered simply, Sanem couldn’t tell if he was trying to be cryptic on purpose. “I need to go to the glaziers first.”

“Glaziers?” 

“Yeah, windows don’t tend to fix themselves.” He joked, his smile melting into a frown as he remembered why the glass had been shattered in the first place, and the mess that had occurred afterwards. “Actually, I had a favour to ask you.” He said, pulling the bag off his shoulder and handing it over to her. “Do you mind carrying this?”

Sanem blinked at him. “Okay,” It wasn’t heavy, at least not as heavy as she’d expected, and when curiosity made her pry it open she almost gasped at the unnatural blue light she found emanating from the inside. “Why did you bring it with you? What if someone sees?” She probably sounded far more accusatory than she had any right to be.

But Can just laughed gently. “I’d rather have it where I can keep an eye on it. We don’t know who else still might know about it.” 

“But why me?” The bewilderment on her face was endearing. 

“Well, you seemed so eager to protect it with your life the last time. I figured I could trust you with it.” It was true, despite the humour in his tone, but it wasn’t the only reason. Sanem was new - no one knew her name, or her face - she wasn’t affiliated with his crew yet and if needed, she could just disappear into the city without suspicion following her. But for now, under broad daylight, there was little to worry about as long as he kept an eye on her, and he was fully intending to. Maybe he was paranoid. But the itch at the back of his neck that something was following them still lingered. 

She conceded, hooked it over her shoulder, her knuckles turning near white as they gripped onto the strap, but it wasn’t just the contents of the bag that seemed to be worrying her, her eyes glancing nervously around the crowded streets as they continued walking.

“Is it normally this busy?” She asked. There was something in her voice that made his chest tighten, he hadn’t seen her as timid as this since her first day on the ship. 

“No,” He shook his head. “It’s just because of the festival.” 

He expected her to give some sort of recognition, a nod, a hum of understanding - so when she just stared blankly at him, he frowned. “Spirit’s Eve?” He prompted.

Sanem forehead furrowed.

“The day of lost souls?” He tried. “Night of the Devil?” He’d been to enough places to know it had many names, but she didn’t seem familiar with any of them. “Do you not even have Halloween where you’re from?” 

“No,” The admission almost made her sound disappointed in herself, Can suddenly felt guilty that he’d pressed. 

“Your village sounds like _tons_ of fun.”

He watched as her eyes grew distant for a minute. “It wasn’t all bad,” He waited patiently for her to elaborate, hoping that she wasn't starting to miss home. “I’m not-” She sighed. “I've never been very good with crowds.”  

Can nodded, Touson could be a bit much even at the best of times, he took it for granted occasionally that not everyone would find comfort in the chaos of the streets that to him more than just felt like home.

“You still have the dagger, right?” He said, the question masked as a reassuring reminder. 

Sanem nodded. Her hand instinctively reaching towards where it was hidden under her clothes, and that’s when he noticed the trembling in her hands, almost unnoticeable, as if it was just her reacting to the cold; but the day was too warm for that now. 

Sanem was suddenly aware of his hand reaching out for hers. She jumped initially, moving it away until she realised he’d done it on purpose, holding out his hand in offering so that she could choose, let her hand fall back to her side alone, or take hold of his - if she wanted to. 

She wanted to. 

His skin was warm against hers, and she hadn’t realised how small her hand would be in comparison to his as their fingers entwined on their own accord. She was left temporarily speechless as he continued leading them along the path like it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t seem to respond to the contact at all, Sanem was left wondering if it had just been to console her, but either way, she found she was struggling to even notice anyone else around them as they passed through the festival hoards. 

 

* * *

 

He felt her hand slip away when they reached the shop, his palm feeling cold as he pushed open the front door. 

Sanem had never seen stained glass before. A fact that became immediately aware to Can as they stepped inside the workshop. 

He had been coming here for years - even before he had his own ship to repair on the few occasions that delinquent cannon balls managed to find themselves through the glass at the back of his cabin. Though it was the first time the damage had been man made. 

Ayaz always knew how to fix it. But arranging for custom window panels was the palest of the glazier’s talents. As he liked to say - glass was light, and Ayaz had learn how to harness it with a skill that left most people wideyed. Decorations hung from the wooden beams making up the ceiling, a prismatic array of colours dancing of the crystal-like display covering every inch of the room. Purples and greens and blues, as the gentle rush of air through the opened door caused a few of the delicate windchimes to start singing.

Can was glad the sun was out. He's spent enough time here as a boy while his father was out working on the dock to know that there was something special about the way the room lit up on sunny days. Watching the colours reflecting in Sanem’s eyes as her jaw fell open in wonder at the sight of it, he tried not to smile as he stepped towards the counter, leaving Sanem to explore.

“Can,” The Ayaz greeted. “How’s your mother?” The question carrying its usual tint of humorred animosity. 

Sanem felt like a dumbstruck child, which was not the most pleasant of feelings to have when in the middle of a city that felt far bigger than she was. But how could you not be rendered speechless when standing amongst something so unexpectedly beautiful? She turned around. An attempt to hide her face from the two men inside as she tried to prevent herself from beaming, but there was plenty to look at in every nook and corner of the room. 

The glass trinkets and baubles above her head hung from fine string from the rafters, chiming off one another as she reached up and ran her fingers through them. Shelves ordained with more functional items sat lower down, glass platters and jars knitted with intricate designs. 

And then her eyes caught sight of flowers she’d previously noted in passing, tucked within a vase beside the window, a colourful arrangement she’d originally assumed to be natural before she’d looked closer, the light catching on it differently to how she’d expected. She almost laughed again when she realised. _How in the world could someone make flowers out of glass?_

Their conversation blended into the background as Sanem kept exploring for a few minutes. Only noticing that whatever discussion seemed to have been finalised when Ayaz approached, noticing her looking at a selection of knives on a display table.

“See anything you like?” He was an older middle-aged man, slim with kind features, a slight glimmer in his eyes as he asked the question. 

“Are they all made of glass?” She wondered.

“Yes,” He seemed justifiably proud. “I hand made them all myself.” 

“But that can’t be particularly convenient, wouldn't they just shatter as soon as you tried to use them?” 

Ayaz laughed, but there was nothing teasing about it. “These are ornamental daggers, dear, they’re not designed for being used.”

“Why would anyone want an ornamental dagger?” The expression on the glass smith’s face suggested there was something she was missing, as he gave a nod of understanding that she didn’t understand at all. 

A glance was shared over her shoulder between the glass smith and Can who was standing a short distance behind her, Ayaz’s tone shifted as he addressed the question to both of them.

“Well, if these aren’t to your tastes, perhaps I can offer something a little more... deadly?”   

“No,” Can cleared his throat. “Thank you, Ayaz, but were not in the market for a promise knife.” 

“Pity,” The glazier tilted his head, sharing another look with Can, but the captains face was unrevealing when Sanem turned around to try and work out what it had meant. 

“It’s time to go,” Can told her. “I’ll see you at the docks this evening, Ayaz?”

“Of course, but before you leave,” He moved to the window, carefully taking out one of the glass flowers, a bluebell, before he offered it to Sanem. “A flower for the lady?” 

“I don’t have any money.” She apologised.

“Then it shall not cost you a thing.” He smiled, placing it delicately in her hand. 

 

* * *

 

Can wondered, as they left the store, why Ayaz had even gotten that impression, the older man's tone indicated his assumption had partially been in jest, but there was a layer of honest truth behind it. Perhaps Can hadn't well enough masked whatever fond way he had been looking at Sanem when they first entered the workshop. 

His eyes found hers, as they had a tendency to do when he knew she wasn’t looking back at him. Her gaze set on the green tinted stem she was twirling in her hand, her mind traveling oceans as they emerged back onto the cobble stone path. 

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah,” It didn’t sound convincing. He waited. “It’s not what I expected. None if this is.”

He didn’t try to stop the smile forming on his face this time. “I guess Ayaz is a pretty good example of what happens when you get such a chaotic mix of cultures in the same city - skills and art from all corners of the world get thrown together. It can make life pretty interesting.”  

“Honestly, I was expecting everything to be a bit more - I don't know." She sighed. "Black.”

Can's forehead crinkled. 

"Touson is supposed to be a black market right?" 

He laughed at that, and she noticed the way the lines formed in the corners of his eyes, though she felt no mockery behind it, so she let herself smile too. 

"So what _were_ you imagining?" He asked.

“A bunch of shifty looking merchants selling drugs, or weapons, or even people.” Sanem shrugged. “Not... that.” 

“I can promise there is plenty of shifty stuff around. Open markets like these all have their dark corners, and the very foundations of Touson were built on illegal trade. You have to be careful." His eyes still watching her as they continued walking, his voice turning softer. “But, there are few rare and beautiful things if you know where to find them."

They both went silent for a few moments as Can lead them along some of the quieter side routes.

“He seemed so nice.” Sanem admitted finally, though the words didn’t seem to match the frown on her face, until he remembered that she’d said exactly the same thing about Bata a few months ago. It was good she was becoming more wary of strangers, it would be better if she held onto that.

“You can trust Ayaz,” He wouldn’t have taken her into the shop if he didn’t; the glass smith was a close friend of his father’s. 

Sanem shifted the bag on her shoulder, thinking. “Could you not have shown him the key? Might he have known something about it, been able to identify where it might have come from?” 

“I trust him, but not with something like that. It’s a sensible idea, maybe most people would have tried, but he’s only human, and I wouldn’t want him accidentally talking about it. That could get him in as much danger as it would put us in, I wouldn't want to get him killed.” 

She went silent again. He found himself missing the sound of her voice as the same troubled look returned to her face. 

“I just feel like such a child out here,” She admitted quietly. “My world is getting bigger and I just feel like I’m getting smaller. I don’t know anything, I don’t know who I can confide in, I don’t know who to stay away from. My little village life might have been boring but I understood it, it made sense.” She sighed. “Like what did Ayaz mean about those knives?”

“Ayaz was being harmless, don’t worry about that,” Can wasn’t particularly keen that his uncle had been flirting with her on his behalf, he could do that for himself. “And no one sees you as a child Sanem.” 

"Then why do they all call me lamb?" She laughed lightly.

"It’s meant affectionately." He reassured, but the softness in her eyes suggested she already knew. “You just haven’t had the opportunity for life experience like the rest of us, that’s all. It's not something you can catch up on. And anyway, it’s not like you have anything to worry about, I’m pretty sure you’re one of only five and a half people working on my ship that can actually read. _And_ you know Latin.”

Sanem lit up again at that. “I only know a tiny bit of Latin.” She countered, before frowning, raising one eyebrow. “Five and a half?” 

“Muzo knows how to write his own name, that’s about it.” 

Sanem laughed, and Can found himself loving the way it sounded, the way her eyes lit up for a few moments, they way she shook her head slightly to compose herself again. 

“And if you want them to stop calling you that, you can just ask.”

“No,” She decided after a beat. “I’m going to earn it.” 

He nodded, smiling at the display of determination. “Alright.”

“Anyway, what’s next on your list, captain?” She asked, a smile still lingering on her face. 

 

* * *

 

The next shop Can lead her to was less on theme than the first. She was struggling to even work out what sort of merchants they were trying to be, it was as if the shop was filled with items that had been lost down the back of wardrobes or in the darkness underneath wooden drawers. It was the most random collection of curiosities Sanem had ever seen. 

Can later explained that most pirate spoils that were considered non-valuable follies tended to be dumped here, where the knicknacks could be sold on to someone who might appreciate their uniquenesses. For that reason alone, Sanem loved it almost as much as Ayaz’s place.

But when Can walked up to the counter and had simply asked if they had any pencils Sanem realised that this was not a spot on his list, but on _hers_. The grumbling lady behind the counter brought out a fancy leather case with five out of the six near-new pencils still tucked inside their pouches, Sanem nearly gasped. She’d never had gradient ones before. 

They passed through the livestock market on the way. Sanem stopped dead in her tracks when she came across the birds Can had previously offered to show her, plumage brighter than anything she’d ever seen as she immediately started to draw some of the smaller ones that looked the colour of blushing mangos. Can felt no need to stop her. Fetching them both food for lunch as he patiently waited for her to finish, he’d never had the chance to watch her work before but there was something mesmerizing about the may her hand moved over the paper. 

He offered again, but she still insisted she didn’t want one as a pet.  

Sanem wasn’t as much of a fan of the tailors, left alone with the seamstress who prodded and measured her until she was satisfied with the outfit. It was strange to be wearing trousers when she’d spent her whole life in dresses, but she appreciated the freedom to move, and understood why Can had suggested it. 

She gave no protest to the leather waist cincher, it was more freeing than the corsets she was used to and it gave her a sense of sturdiness that she’d been missing, though it was weird to be wearing it _over_ her clothes rather than underneath. 

The style was familiar, not all that different to what she’d seen Deren or Guliz wear on occasion, or what she’d noticed women in the city dressed in. Ornamented with a few unique touches. It was fashionable, at least, as far as she knew, but the materials were of better quality than most, she had a suspicion Can had spoiled her with one of the more high end tailors available in the city. And she was well aware that most pirates tended to _steal_ clothes rather than have them custom made. 

It had been a long time since she'd seen a mirror. But the reflection staring back at her was not one she entirely recognised. Arms turned strong from months of working on the ship, her skin shades darker for the near constant touch of the sun, her hair more wild, the curls amplified by the salty air. Her eyes sharper, the usual honey brown turned a tad spiced and fierce. It wasn't just her clothes that were new, she looked like a fully fledged pirate - it was a change she hadn't even realised had happened.

Sanem grinned. 

She almost blushed under the look Can gave her when she emerged back into the main room, but there was nothing carnal in his eyes as he looked her over slowly. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed about that. 

“What do you think?” She asked, spinning around to show off the new outfit. 

“It’s perfect,” He told her, stepping closer. “Almost.”

His hands reached for the cotton sleeves hanging over her wrist, carefully rolling the material up to above her elbow, his fingers brushing over her skin as Sanem reminded herself to breath. He repeated with the other arm. An electricity to his touch that she had to fight against to stop herself from shivering, he must have noticed when she clenched her fist. But he gave no indication.

 

* * *

 

Night fell without her noticing that the time had even passed. Though by the look on Can’s face he hadn’t been aware either, as he glanced up at the dimming sky while they were almost as far away from the docks as they could have been without stepping outside the city. 

He led her back, weaving through the crowds where necessary, as the excitement of the evening festival grew, taking her down quieter alleyways when they were available, both to keep Sanem calm and to stay away from anyone who might be watching. He stopped to make sure the glass sphere was still in the bag, now hidden amongst other things they’d collected throughout the day. Something ominous was looming, he couldnt put a finger on it, and it seemed like more than just the spooky atmosphere the festival usually revelled in. He tried to let Sanem distract him. 

They arrived back at the docks, as Can used his hand to cover a lantern to send a message to those on the Kral in a form of a flashing light. The skiff had been moving back and forth all night loading up supplies, this would be its last run. But it would take the little row boat a while to get here. 

The wooden jetty was quiet, the locals having shifted to the western side of the town for a reason Sanem could not discern. 

They sat, legs dangling over the edge as the glimmer of stars began to peak into the darkening sky, as Can pulled out a paper bag he had bought earlier from a festival stall, filled with what he had called ‘honey-roasted pecans’. 

“That’s not a word.” She  squinted at him playfully. “You made that up.” 

“I swear to the gods, I did not.” He laughed, offering her the bag to try. She enjoyed them, despite her reluctance to believe him when he told her they grew on trees. Food from other countries was strange.

“You really never left Ikara?” He asked.

“I barely even left the village.” Sanem took another handful from the bag. “We mostly just ate grains, and fish. None of this weird fancy stuff.” She took another mouthful of them, it wasn’t particularly lady like. It made him laugh. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” His forehead creased.

“Where did you grow up?” 

Can paused, it wasn’t a well practised answer, few that knew him didn’t already know. He wasn’t sure he’d even ever been asked before.”I grew up here. In Touson.” It was no secret, and they had time, so he continued openly. “You’ve heard of my mother. The infamous captain of the Kara Ejderha, my father worked on her ship, that's how they met. But I use the term loosely, I don’t think it was an entirely… _mutual_ arrangement. But, anyway, when I was born, my mom, she uh - well, she never actually wanted kids. So she kicked my dad off the ship and kicked me off with him. He brought me here, found a wetnurse for me, Mihriban, who he eventually married when I was four.” Can took a breath. “And I lived here until I turned fourteen, when she turned up again out of the blue and offered me a place on her crew.”

There was something mournful in his eyes when he finished. “And you went with her?”

Can nodded. “I loved it here, but my heart lay out on the seas, it was inevitable.” 

“Did you ever see your dad again?”

“No,” He admitted slowly.

“Why not?” Though Sanem prayed immediately after she’d said it that he hadn’t died.

“I felt like I had betrayed him, choosing a life with her over what he’d built for us.” The disappointment in his tone wasn’t lying to either of them. “I know it seems stupid.” 

“No,” Sanem nodded, she wasn’t sure if she could face her mother after running away like she had. “I understand.” 

Something suddenly boomed in the distance. Further to the west and sounding too unfamiliar to be cannon fire and too violent to be anything less sinister, but when Sanem’s head snapped around she noticed the red sparks unfurling in the sky like a bright flower against the blackness of the evening sky, and she realised, breathless. 

Fireworks. 

Sanem started beaming. This must have been what everyone was so excited about this morning back on the ship, and she could understand why. 

Another one shot into the sky, smaller and blue, more like a scattered dandelion as it split and fizzled over the horizon. Another, then another. The stars had friends, and it was dazzling.

“Have you seen them before?” Can asked, the sight replacing the tightness in his chest, smiling again as he watched her face 

“Once,” She nodded slowly, still looking out over the sea to their right at the display. “My Dad took me and my sister to Katiket on the king’s birthday years ago, they had a few of them then but we couldn’t stay to watch the whole thing. It’s beautiful.” 

“Yeah, it is beautiful.” But it wasn’t the sky his eyes were watching.

Maybe it was the food, or the way her eyes were shining, or the way she'd so comfortably held his hand earlier - how their fingers had intertwined and fit together so perfectly, but he suddenly found himself leaning towards her. Innocently at first. They’d been sat so close together anyway, neither had particularly noticed. He just wanted to move even closer, to breathe her in, to bury his nose into her hair - perhaps he was getting carried away with himself. 

But before he could force himself to pull away, Sanem had turned back towards him, surprised to find their faces only inches apart, foreheads almost resting against one another, practically breathing shared air. Though only a split second later something inside made her stop breathing all together. 

"Sanem..." His voice was low and deep, sending a rumble through her chest despite the inches of air between them. She shivered, though she blamed it on the cold. It sounded like a question, a plea and it took her only a moment to become aware of the fact his eyes were fixed on her lips, 

It was probably the bravest thing she'd ever done, and Sanem was aware that a lot had happened over the last few months to rival that title, but nothing had set her heart beating so fast as the moment she chose to remove the distance between them. And give him her answer.

Something gave way in his chest the moment she kissed him, but the slight tension that remained in her body worried him that she might pull away, change her mind and snap herself out of it. He was really hoping she wouldn't. Her lips so perfectly soft against his own, gentle and needy at the same time. So when she all but melted against him, one of her hands slowly, timidly, finding its way into the hair at the back of his neck, tangling into the brown waves as she pulled him in deeper, her other grasping onto the shirt over his chest. He couldn't contain his smile, or the way his arms tangled around her waist as he held her whole body closer. Sanem sighed against his mouth, a content noise that had something like warm honey pooling in his chest. 

Neither of them were prepared to let go after they pulled away, foreheads resting against one another as they steadied their breathing, sharing the same air as her hands shifted only slightly from where they’d held on to him. His arms only loosening enough to give her the room she needed to breathe. 

Sanem’s eyes were still closed when he blinked his own open. But even hers flashed wide when they heard Metin coughing in greeting, the skiff bumping against the jetty where it had just landed. 

“Need a lift?” He offered, his eyebrows raised, badly burying a smile. 

They all just laughed, a joyful sound, as Can helped Sanem onto her feet. Though he realised a moment after she carefully stepped into the tender that someone was missing. He really should have noticed already, but he’d been too distracted.

“Ayaz was supposed to be here by now.” Something cold ran down the back of his neck. 

“What time did you plan to meet?” Metin asked.

“Dusk,” Can replied, his voice turning cold, _something’s not right._ “That was almost an hour ago.” 

He’d specified the meeting point carefully, yet the jetty was still empty, aside from them. _Something’s not right._ “Take her back to the ship.”

“Where are you going?” Sanem almost stepped back out off the boat before Metin grabbed her hand to stop her. She didn’t fight it, aware that it was protective more than anything else.

Can’s hand fell to the sword tucked into his belt. “I’m gonna try and find him.” But he had a pained feeling that he might not. He shared a look with Metin, before the skiff started moving and Sanem was forced to sit unless she wanted to find herself wobbling overboard. Watching as Can turned back to the city. 

“He’ll be fine.” Metin promised.

 

* * *

 

The lanterns were out when he arrived.

Something crunched under his feet as he stepped inside the workshop, a noise he assumed and dreaded to be shards of broken glass, scattered all over the floor. Pushing through the darkness, jarred by the occasional flash of fireworks in the distance, looking for any signs of life in the familiar room that felt noticeably colder than normal. 

And then he found what he had prayed he wouldn’t find. Greeted by a motionless body slumped onto the floor in one of the backrooms, dark liquid spilling from the chest of the silhouette of a body that looked far too much like Ayaz. Can’s hands desperately searched for a pulse point. _No. No, please no._

There wasn't one. 

 


	19. Fate Is A Bitch

The thunder crashed. The flash of lightning less fierce now that the dim light of morning was pushing through the storm clouds. As something very deep inside Sanem protested every inch her ship sailed closer towards his. 

Towards  _ Can _ . 

It was pure luck, really, that this hadn’t happened sooner. Two years of keeping out of his reach had really been testing the limits of fate, and the sane voice inside her head kept telling her she would have to face him eventually. The world was big, but it was not nearly as big as the secret she’d kept, or the promise he’d broken, and both would inevitably pull them back together. Life was funny like that. And fate was a fucking bitch.

There was a part of her that wanted to run, it had always worked up until now, at least, it had always worked _ temporarily _ . Delaying what refused to be prevented entirely. But things always caught back up to her in the end - things and places she’d escaped from always finding themselves back under her feet once again. Maybe she just wasn’t trying hard enough. Maybe she wasn’t trying at all. 

Sanem steadied herself as Can’s ship came into earshot, aware that her reluctance to face him was forming into a string of snide comments that she attempted to hold back. 

“Were you actively  _ trying _ to get yourself killed or has taking on ships three times your size become a new pastime?” She tried to calm the tone of her voice. “Might I suggest taking up chess, or knitting? I hear people don’t tend to die so often.” 

He smiled at that, though he tried to hide it, as her face seeped an angry red at the realisation he probably assumed she’d actually been worried about his safety, on some level, buried under a clenched jaw and sharp eyes. 

The ships settled resistantly beside one another. Tense and still as the sails were tied away, light rain still falling, which seemed appropriate to Sanem, as distant flashes of lightning settled over the islands now a few miles behind. 

Can’s ship was a mess, dangerous cannon shots had gone straight through the hull, though it appeared that the damage was above water level. The sails were in tatters, and the poor thing seemed to be groaning over the sway of the waves as if a support beam had shattered. It reminded Sanem of how Gypsy looked the night she’d pulled her away from the dogs. But it would survive, just as her cat did. So long as Can stopped being so stupidly reckless.

She felt Deren walk up beside her, the closeness reassuring. 

Can took a deep breath as he realised she wasn’t running this time, allowing one of his men to set the gangplank down between the decks. 

Sanem kicked it away. Watching with a smug glint in her eye as it tumbled down the gap between the Albatross and whatever-the-hell his new vessel was called. Maybe it was childish. She didn’t care.

“Sanem,” Can said, almost a sigh, almost a groan, his next question turning desperate. “Can we talk? Please.” 

“No,” It was pure stubbornness, and illogical too considering she’d made the choice to stand and face him. “Why the hell did you feel the need to jump into a fight like that, like a complete and utter idiot, when we had that dipshit exactly where we wanted him?”

Something hardened slightly in Can’s face in response to her animosity, she tried not to wince as she noticed the deep bruise gathering over his nose. “So I suppose him shooting at you with chaser cannons was all part of the plan?”

She crossed her arms.  _ Technically _ Fabri hadn’t had those the last time she’d seen his ship, he must have upgraded. “We were fine." She insisted, annoyed. “It was dark, it’s not like they could aim properly.” 

Can raised his arms in surrender. “Look, I was just trying to help.” 

Though that seemed to be the wrong thing to say by the look on her face.

“I don’t need your help!” Sanem’s voice came out louder than she’d meant it to, but her heart wouldn’t let her be quiet. An energy sparking down the back of her neck in what she assumed was anger. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Can Divit, I’m not your little damsel in distress anymore -” 

But her words were cut off as the air suddenly turned a blinding white and a noise as loud as an oak tree splitting open from a booming strike of lightning tore through the sky. Which made sense when the white spots behind her eyes finally dissipated with her blinking, as she was left gaping at the smouldering wreck of the mast of Can’s mainsail.

Everyone stared in dumb shock for a few moments.

“You might not be a damsel in distress, but I think I might be.” Can conceded, watching as the mast groaned before it slowly toppled over into the sea.

Well, now the gods were just playing with her. A ship like that was about as sail-ready as a dead rock. 

“And why shouldn’t I just leave you here?” She challenged. “The islands can be lovely this time of year.” 

“I know,” His voice saddened by the memories that should have been nothing but fond. Sanem closed her eyes to try to stop them running through her own mind. “I wouldn’t disagree with you, but I hear the new locals aren’t exactly the hospitable type.”

Sanem turned, looking toward the outline of Fabri’s ship run aground in the distance; no doubt his crew would be disembarking to check the damage.  She knew, as much as she was trying to fight it, that she couldn’t leave Can out here. It would be as good as leaving him for dead. Of course, she had no qualms doing that exact thing to Fabri.

“Fine,” Sanem set her jaw. “But you’re sleeping in the cargo hold. With the rats.” 

“You have rats?” 

“Of course I have rats.” She fumed. “You fucking stole my cat!” 

“Sanem, I didn’t steal her.” Though it was ironic she would accuse  _ him _ of that; he didn’t point it out, aware her crimes were immaterial in comparison to his own.

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “Then where is she?” 

“She’s on my ship. My other ship,” He didn’t seem all that pleased about how brilliantly this conversation was going for him. Perhaps it would undo some of his wrongs, his voice softening.“I can take you to her.” 

Sanem let him suffer for a few moments longer, before she nodded to Bulut to place their own gangplank down.

She felt herself step infinitesimally closer to Deren as Can walked across, followed by a crew that she only partially recognised. After all, she’d taken most of his sailors with her when she'd left. 

Her muscles tensed as he came to stand in front of her, becoming aware of the dagger strapped to her belt as if it had turned hot as flame, the argument forgotten as his heartbreakingly familiar eyes turned back to something pleading.  _ Those eyes _ . That was the most painful part, and she suddenly felt like maybe she couldn't do this. 

“Sanem…” He got too close. She would have moved back further if that wouldn’t have meant stepping directly onto Deren’s toes, His hand reaching out desperately for hers and she suddenly became aware of Osman pushing himself between them. 

“Leave her alone,” The warning clear in his voice.

Can seemed just as surprised as she was, watching the shorter man stand protective, like a terrier trying to defend its human from a wolfhound. It was sweet, really, Sanem thought. He was most likely unaware of the near tangible history he’d just walked straight into, reacting to the apprehension he must have seen on her face. 

She watched a frown build on Can’s forehead, cogs turning behind his eyes as he glanced between the love of his life and the man blocking him from her, a fragile guess forming in his mind at something that was entirely untrue but that Sanem didn’t feel any need to correct. 

Can backed down. 

Sanem’s feet moved without her telling them to, giving the word to Deren to set sail before she rushed towards the safety of her room. His call made her pause, one hand braced on the wooden door.

"I was trying to stop it." He said, something in his voice breaking at the admission. "That night. When I realised what was happening, I tried to stop it." 

An image flashed through her mind. Haunting as the moment she’d first set eyes on it - desperately searching, as what little was left of her heart shattered. Familiar golden fields turned black and barren from ash, an old cottage on the outskirts of an empty village, sat lonely and hollow. Her home torn through by a dark and vicious reaper. 

A fist formed at her side, the sting of her knuckles flaring from where she’d punched him earlier. "You should never have let it happen in the first place." 

“I know,” His voice fragile. “I’m sorry.” 

She slammed the door shut behind her, crawling into her bed and pressing her face into Bandit’s fur when she found him curled up on her bed, seemingly undisturbed by the utter chaos of the morning. 

 

* * *

  
  


Naturally, Can tried to follow. But this time it wasn’t just Osman that blocked his path, Deren stood in front of him, holding him back with a glare and crossed arms.  

“Please.” He almost sounded pitiful. Deren didn’t move.

His expression was pained but she’d seen the agony in her friend’s eyes those two years ago, a broken heart that had taken months to mend and months to break again, that Sanem had, eventually, patched together with tattered, crippled pieces and fleeting jokes, a way to distract herself from all that had happened. 

The look on his face now was no rival. So she set her ground, eyeing him fiercely until he gave in. 

He did, finally, reluctantly moving to stand with the bewildered group that was his crew, allowing Deren the space to organise their little Albatross to start flying again, she sent Bulut to the helm, standing resolutely in front of the cabin doors, permitting no one inside who wouldn’t be wanted. 

She watched Can futilely offer his help working the ropes, he was familiar with the ship and the majority of the people on it, though they were trying to act otherwise. 

Deren was aware that most of them knew half of the story, enough to be angry - gaps filled in with whispers and rumours, fixing into empty spaces like sand between rocks. Deren could still remember when Sanem had admitted the depth of everything with bloodshot eyes, the shame, the anguish - it was the first time she’d ever seen Sanem sobbing, and it scared her. Deren had promised on her soul that she’d never tell, one of only a handful of people who knew the truth. And she had kept it, not even Bulut knew, who she loved with all her heart - who had helped to heal her own grief in the wake of the battle she wished they’d stayed away from. A promise was a promise. 

 

* * *

 

Can found Deren later, still sat resolutely with her back against the double doors leading to the cabins. He joined her, though, understandably, she ignored him. 

“Did she ever find them?” He asked quietly after a few seconds of silence. “Her family.” 

There was a part of him that didn’t want to know, wanted to remain blind to how much his betrayal had hurt her. 

She must have tried looking, those four months when she’d vanished. He’d never believed the rumours that she’d found the fabled city of gods, she knew the way, that he was certain, but to sail all the way there  _ on her own _ , and to silently return without telling a single soul what she’d seen, or found, or discovered - just didn’t seem to fit. 

Though that story seemed far less agonising than imagining Sanem torturing herself trying to search for a family she would never find, and it hurt to know he was in part to blame. 

Deren gave him no answer, but something sad shifted behind her eyes. 

Can’s heart turned cold, his throat closing up at the meaning behind her expression, standing to leave her in peace on legs that weren’t as sturdy as normal, walking away as he fought the urge to punch someone - to punch something. But he realised that the only person he really wanted to hit was himself, two years ago. Though, perhaps Sanem had done that for him. His hand reaching up to prod at his damaged nose, feeling a burst of red pain at the touch but accepting that he probably deserved it. 

His solemn feet took him down to where his men were trying to sleep deep below deck, before he settled himself in amongst the damp and the ratways. It seemed appropriate. 

Can took a deep breath to steady himself. He could try again in the morning, and try again every day after that; he couldn’t live in a world where Sanem hated him this much. Indifference would be better than this, even if she had moved on. Indifference he could only hope for, as he leant his head back against the wooden boards behind him, giving in to the same uncomfortable sleep he’d been plagued with for years. His dreams forming into nightmares. 

As Sanem slept just as fitfully in the comfort of the bed they’d once shared.


	20. Nightmares

**Four years and ten months ago.**

There was a fragility to it; life. A kind of delicate chaos that Sanem had only seen glimpses of so far. How things could so quickly change, how heartbeats could so easily be given and so easily taken away, how whole futures could be destroyed and left in broken 'what ifs', all in the fallout of one bare and vulnerable instant.

It was a concept that would become intimately familiar to Sanem. As she sat, unaware, studying the little glass bluebell held in her hand, realising how easy it would be, were she to drop it, for the flower to shatter against the floorboards into lifeless shards.

The news settled over the crew with all the comfort of a rain-sodden blanket on a cold night, quiet snuffing out whatever delicate traces of excitement had remained as the flashes of colour continued against the dark sky over the silhouette of the city, the moment Can returned to the ship.

Ayaz was dead.

Most of the crew had only known the glass smith in passing; it was not their own mourning they were feeling, but Can’s.

“Why?” Guliz was the first to ask but not the first to wonder. Ayaz was as prone to making enemies as a butterfly was prone to sting; being a glass smith was not a life known for provoking cold-hearted murder. Normally.

Sanem was looking at Ayaz's gift when Can’s searching eyes found hers. He prayed he was wrong, hoped that there might be a million other reckless reasons why someone would want Ayaz dead, a million others reasons that had nothing to do with the fact that Can had walked into his shop only  _that morning_. But it was a truth that hurt him to accept, that this was more than just a coincidence, that his attempts to keep his uncle unaware of the treasure they’d carried had done nothing at all to keep him safe, that Sanem’s assumption must have been shared with whoever had done this. After all, who better to inspect a fabled glass key than a glassmaker?

“What does it mean?” Someone asked, he hadn’t paid attention to who.

“It means we’re still being followed,” _It means you put Sanem in far more danger than you’d originally thought._ “It means we need to leave.”

Under normal circumstances, asking his crew to set sail before the festival had finished was like trying to pry an enraged lobster’s claw off your pinky finger. But this time, they didn’t argue. Pulling up anchor and letting loose the canvas after Can indicated for Metin, Deren and Sanem to follow into his cabin.

The news would spread through the city like a flame over dry kindling, anyone who wasn’t already aware that Can Divit had the key to Anaiga would soon find out. They needed to prepare for the impending shit storm that was about to follow.

 

* * *

 

Sanem was only half paying attention as the three of them formed a plan, something about retreating north, meeting up with others - places and people she didn’t know.

She sat the bag down on Can’s desk beside her. Now empty of all but one, yet feeling heavier than it had all day. Ignoring the discussion she didn’t feel she was meant to be a part of, her hands found the glass sphere and pulled it into the light of the oil lanterns as her eyes inspected the flecks of silver in the spherical sky of glowing blue.

 _How could such a little thing cause so much trouble?_  No one was even certain what the damn thing was - clutching desperately at rumours and fairytales, willing to  _kill_  or  _be killed_  squabbling over a line in a nursery rhyme.

Pirates, Sanem decided, were either remarkably foolish, or incredibly stupid.

But there  _was_  something otherworldly about it. As she turned it over in delicate hands, blue and humming as shimmering constellations twirled in her hold. Heat stolen indiscernible slowly from her skin, the cold of the glass seeping into the tips of her fingers that had been warm only moments before. She was more than happy to pass it to Can when he asked for it, the chill working its way into the palm of her hand before he took the orb and returned it to the safety of the small iron vault in the corner of his room.

She hadn’t noticed when he’d dismissed the others. Almost jumping up from the desk when she became alarmingly aware they were now the only two in the room. His  _bedroom_. And this time she didn’t have a head injury to hide behind.

Something shifted in his presence now they were alone, whatever facade he’d been hiding behind slipping away as something drained and mournful took its place.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stepping back over to her, his glance landing on the empty bag with a tint of guilt in his eyes.

“Are you?” She countered - she wasn’t the one who had just lost a friend.

He didn’t answer, but she could see it on his face, and something unfair skipped in her heart when she wondered at what point he’d become comfortable enough to be so open with her. It made her wonder how long he’d been patiently waiting to kiss her.

Sanem pulled out the flower that she’d carefully tucked inside the pocket of her cotton shirt over her chest. Taking one of Can’s hands and placing the glass stem against the skin of his palm before closing his grip around it with the gentle and warm touch of her own hands as they surrounded his. “I think he would want you to have this.”

She held in a squeak as he unexpectedly leaned closer. Though he didn’t kiss her as she’d expected. Emotions tired and drained and in need of comfort rather than a heated touch; his forehead rested lightly against her own as his eyes closed. Sanem felt herself melting slightly. Warmth blooming like a flower in her chest at the understanding that she could at least offer him this, some semblance of consolation, a kind of bitter euphoria in her veins that he’d sought it from  _her_  of all people. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to earn it. But what she felt didn’t matter right now.

“Thank you,” He finally said, after what could have been moments or minutes, Sanem was having a hard time keeping track.

There was a moment of emptiness when he slowly pulled away, and she moved her hands from around his, but neither felt strong enough to fill the space again. She smiled sadly back at him before stepping towards the door. Not brave enough to offer to stay, or to face the consequences of what his answer might be if she did.

Still, it left her feeling hollow as she closed the cabin door behind her.

 

* * *

 

Sanem dreamed of ice.

Islands of it, frozen and barren and so large they could have hidden the carcass of a whole ship inside. Cold land seeping into cold water as the colour turned from white to a brilliant blue. But it scared her, that colour, something ghostly and eternal about it, years of secrets and memories held captive under the confines of numb ice.

Something called to her, a creature that she couldn’t see, immaterial and voiceless, as it refused to let her turn away, gently tugging her forward, even though Sanem was sure to do so would stop her heart from beating.

For a while, the creature seemed content for her to just  _look_ , and then it turned desperate, pulling her down with an unwavering strength that she tried to fight against.

And then she slipped. Her whole body dragged under the surface as her lungs froze, though she could not breathe anyway, as something horrifying screamed from below the dark and endless depths of the water.

 

* * *

 

She was shivering when she woke up. Gypsy sat heavy over her chest, letting out a low grumble as her yellow eyes bore straight into Sanem’s with a disconcerting intensity.

 _Cats_ , Sanem thought with a slight groan,  _both the best and worst thing to wake up to after a nightmare._

“Gypsy, I can’t actually breath with you sat like that.” Sanem wheezed, keeping her voice quiet, not wanting to wake the others in their hammocks beside her, as she gently nudged the cat away. The look in the feline’s eyes was almost as creepy as the dream had been, and it was doing nothing to settle her thumping heart.

Gypsy landed silently onto the wooden floorboards that were cold under Sanem’s feet as she stepped down onto it too. Her chest beating too loud to let her fall back to sleep again, so she drowsily padded her way upstairs as she tried to recall who was supposed to be on duty that night, emerging up onto the main deck, her eyes guided by the faint glow of moonlight and the step of the cat that walked quickly at her ankles.

She caught sight of Guliz's shadow up in the crow's nest when she emerged, but she wasn’t all that skilled at climbing at the best of times and didn’t fancy attempting it in the dark. So, after catching sight of him, headed towards where Metin was standing on the raised deck at the very back of the ship.

Uncertainty made her pause when she reached the steps, the warning months ago to stay away from the command deck had never officially been retracted, but considering she'd kissed the captain, she couldn't imagine she'd still not be welcome. Metin’s smile helped to settle the rest of her unease as she approached, joining him leant against the back railing. The sway of the ship under her feet making her feel secure rather than wobbly despite the height as she looked down at would have been the ship’s wake if the darkness hadn’t obscured it - listening to the calming noise of it instead.

They settled into a companionable silence. Being surrounded by the same people day in and day out meant they often ran out of things to talk about, she’d learnt that quietness could be just as appealing and comfortable as conversation at times, especially when droopy eyes complained that they’d really rather not be open right now, and sluggish brains made forming words more than difficult.

The glow from the windows of Can’s cabin was absent, the lights snuffed out as he attempted to sleep. At least, she assumed he was sleeping - he deserved some rest after the colossally shitty evening he’d had.

She hoped he’d enjoyed the rest of the day at least, her mind wandering back to the moment on the jetty, how her hand had tangled into the dark brown of his hair as his strong arms hugged around her waist and pulled her impossibly close.

She'd only been kissed once before. But it had been in the folly of childhood after she'd fallen from Sinan's highland pony when he'd dared her to try to ride, an apology for her aching and bruised arm. So she didn't think it counted.

Can's definitely had. Though the thought sent her blushing, distracted when Metin softly cleared his throat beside her.

“Sanem...” He started quietly, slight trouble forming a knot in his brow as his eyes remained fixed on the darkness ahead. “Has Can explain to you about his mother?”

She nodded slowly, sensing oncoming caution in his tone, fully aware that he’d witnessed more of their moment yesterday evening than she would have liked.

“Can has never been one to attach himself to people easily,” Metin said, something careful in his voice, shuffling his hands nervously before he continued. “His idea of family has always been a bit broken. But he found it here, with us.”

Sanem listened attentively, waiting for him to continue, the silence broken by the sound of the waves against the ship, the wind ruffling through the canvas of the sails.

“It takes a lot for him to trust,” Metin explained. “To let himself love. But when he does, he loves entirely and with a depth that leaves part of his heart exposed in a way I’ve never seen in any other person before.”

Sanem was almost taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes when he turned to face her. “You’re a part of our family now.  _His_  family. But he’s not nearly as tough on the inside as he looks. Just... be careful with him okay?”

There was no threat behind it; the look on his face compassionate rather than defensive, simply letting her know that there were certain pieces of Can that needed safeguarding, should he choose to share them with her.

“Of course,” It felt strange to feel both her chest warm and her throat close up at the same time. Sanem hadn’t ignored how dismissive Can had been about his mother when he’d told her of his childhood. So nonchalant about an abandonment that must have damaged something primal inside him, and he’d been living with the knowledge of it since he could first understand what it even meant. Her own mother might not have been understanding, but at least she’d always looked after her, always kept her safe and warm and fed. The realisation bit with teeth that felt like guilt.

Metin nodded at her answer, turning back to the sea illuminated only by the soft traces of moonlight.

Gypsy yowled from below. A disgruntled noise she usually made in complaint at having lost whatever rat she’d been trying to chase. Sanem was surprised there were any left considering how chubby the cat had gotten.

She left Metin, ambling down to the source of the noise to get her to shush before she disturbed any of the sleeping crew, discovering her scruffy tortoiseshell staring firmly at the darkness around the side of the cabins in that brilliantly eerie way cats tended to do and that her mother had nicknamed ‘seeing ghosts’. Sanem scooped Gypsy into her arms. “You don’t have to be quite so disturbing all the time, you know.”

But then Gypsy growled, deep and rumbling, her eyes still pinned onto whatever she’d been looking at. As Sanem followed her line of sight, noticing the blackness of a figure that was trying far too hard to stay in the shadows.

 

* * *

 

 

The whole ship heard Guliz screaming Sanem’s name as she witnessed the stranger grabbing at her, the cat falling to the ground with an audible hiss even from her distance.

Whatever stealth mission he’d been attempting sabotaged in a split second by a callow inlander and a scraggy cat. Sanem probably would have bitten the hand covering her mouth if he’d dared to say that out loud.

Sanem heard him swear against his ear as the crew dashed out of their sleeping places, a kind of dishevelled bewilderment as they realised what was happening. Metin the first to arrive, followed by Guliz scrambling down from the rigging. Something cold and sharp pressed against her neck a moment before Can emerged for the cabin doors, fury burning in his eyes when he saw her, looking as if he might start growling louder than Gypsy was.

The stranger was bigger than she was, stronger. His voice gruff and unfriendly as he spoke a warning. “Give me the key or I’ll kill her.”

Sanem had to stop herself from snorting, maybe it was panic making her delirious, maybe it was his display at confidence when he said the words that sounded nothing but cliche to Sanem, or how he’d so obviously overestimated her value in his rough attempt at bargaining.

Though, as she looked back at the others, all staring at the knife against her neck with dread, perhaps it was not  _him_  that had sorely mistaken her own importance.

Sanem steadied herself with a shaky breath, meeting Can’s eyes as she thought back to the reminder he’d given her that morning. Her hand moving silently to her belt.

“Devil’s hell, I’ll do it!” He yelled, fear turning him desperate and crazed. The knife pressed close against her skin when he noticed in frustration that nobody had moved.  _Where had he even come from? Was he hiding on the ship this whole time?_

Deren took an anxious step forward, stopping as Sanem was forced to stumble backwards, dangerously close to the edge of the ship as her captor retreated.

“Don’t.” Can cautioned her attacker, raising his hands in surrender. But it wasn’t  _himself_ he was warning of, eyes held on Sanem’s as he gave an almost imperceptibly small nod.

And then she stabbed him. With all the speed and certainty of a cat darting at an oblivious mouse, the hand that had quietly settled over the hilt of her own dagger plunged backwards it into the defenseless flesh of her captor’s thigh.

He screamed - agony turning his hand numb as the knife against her neck fell to the ground. Sanem shoved him to the floor in what she later claimed to be disarmament but in truth had simply been in reflex to move his pained wailing further away from her ear. As he collapsed under the newfound frailty of his leg.

Deren immediately grabbed her arm to drag her away, which - to Sanem - seemed a bit unfair and counterproductive at this point considering what she’d just done. But she didn’t fight it.

Can rushed forward, putting himself between Sanem and the man who’d tried to harm her. Pulling his sword free, letting it flash in the moonlight; a threat, a warning.

“Who sent you?” Can demanded. The man on the floor just laughed, the realisation that he was cornered turning him apathetic and senseless. Well aware of Can’s reputation and what usually happened to those who dared to cross him. “How many others know about the key?”

“Such a pity,” Broken and blackened teeth flashing through a sadistic and pained grin. “That pretty little shop of your uncles-”

There was a fragility to it; life. A kind of delicate chaos that Sanem had only seen glimpses of so far. Gypsy - weak and wobbling, her fur matted with dried blood, but who had been brought back from the darkness of death after days of uncertainty. Bata, who in her own fortune had not been so fortunate, who had collapsed with a blood-soaked gasp as he fell to the floor.

But his killers had been formless. Strangers. Names and faces she had not known, that terror in the moment barricaded from her mind even now.

Sanem watched, horrified, almost wishing something similar would happen again. As the hand she’d more than happily held within her own brutally guided a blade through the chest of the man who’d held a dagger to her neck.

All dark blood. Choked gasps and shattered heartbeats. Watching with eyes that refused to look away as something deep inside her screamed, though no sound came out.

Can stepped back, blood dripping from his blade. A tamed fury taking over the expression that had been looking at her with nothing but fondness all day. Simmering anger through lips she’d kissed. Lips she had wanted to kiss again.

Can’s eyes met hers, watching, a weight dropping in his chest, as something worse than fear clouded her eyes.

 

 


	21. A Cavern Of Shadows

_ For your world is delicate and mine too harsh; a robin cannot fly the oceans, but my wings are long and I’ve learned to sail them - but now these storms have become my home. And they will not let me leave. _

_ \--- _

Bulut was being fidgety. The restlessness sat unfamiliar on his shoulders, and perhaps it would have concerned Deren if not for the group of semi-strangers residing on the Albatross amongst them. She knew only a few. Bulut knew none. 

Can’s crew had begrudgingly settled amongst her own like geese amongst ducks. An outsider might not have even noticed the discrepancy; after all, pirates tended to be cut from the same haggard patchwork of cloth and sewn together by the same crude hands. But the difference was more than obvious to themselves and was only amplified during the distance at mealtimes.

The whole ship was tense. An enmity hovering between the two captains that Deren could almost taste. Under other circumstances, she might have suggested they simply screw it out, though she was certain that to say so out loud would earn her a death glare from Sanem that could rival the eyes of the reaper himself. 

Still, it felt as though if something didn’t settle soon then Guliz might find herself having to stitch up a frustration provoked stab wound. 

\---

Sanem was lost to him. 

It was foolish, and Can knew it, but a part of him had always hoped that patching their broken pieces back together with bandages of apologies and rewritten promises would allow him back into the life of the same woman he’d betrayed two years ago. 

Instead, he was faced with the reality that despite having found her, he was searching  _ still _ . 

The warmth of the body he’d known, now turned cold, as even her eyes refused to acknowledge his presence on the ship he knew almost as well as his own. That brilliant and contagious light in everything she did, now dimmed like the faint glow of a charred and blackened lantern. The gentle comfort of the voice that used to talk to him across the absent distance of his bedsheets under the gentle light of the morning sun - all now miles away and further from him than it had ever been. 

But it wasn’t just Sanem that was out of his reach; trying to integrate himself back amongst her crew felt as futile as attempting to stitch back on a severed limb long after the wound had scarred over. 

No one would admit where the ship was headed. Sanem had asked for no instructions in returning to her cat, it appeared his one and only peace offering was going to have to wait.

Only one on her ship seemed happy to talk to him, one he did not recognise and who had introduced herself as Ayhan, who, in all her flippant obliviousness, appeared to not have been sailing on the Albatross for long. She could answer very few of his questions but seemed to have plenty of her own. And wouldn’t  _ stop _ talking. 

But the new and friendly face was a welcome change, and the story of how she’d ended up on the ship along with her brother more welcome still. 

Days fell into weeks as they travelled further north, the air turning bitter and the waters cold. And his Sanem still did not return to him. Keeping away behind the wooden walls of the cabins or the safety of those standing at the foot of the command deck. Barricades he was not willing to fight through, lest it push her further away. She was far enough already.

Perhaps words were not enough to fix what he had done, but it was all that he had, and she was, somewhat rightfully, unwilling to listen. 

Sixteen cold nights of silence passed before it was finally broken. As a landmass emerged in the distance - miles of dark, ghostly rock and jagged cliffs. And a cavern that seemed to swallow the light of the sun itself. 

\---

The ship held still over eerily calm water. The sky heavy with unfriendly clouds, as in a moment of foreign unity, every single person on her ship stared at the ominous landmass rising out of the ocean in front of them.

Sanem wasn’t sure who had named it Black Water Cavern but it seemed remarkably uninspired. 

The island was volcanic. Or had been at one point, but was now little more than the charred corpse of one. Cliffs carved from stark rock out of a harsh and uninhabited island, black land bleeding into black water. Dark sand staining the waves like blood. 

A giant crack ornamented the cliff face, like the gasping mouth of a fiend from one of her worst childhood nightmares taking in a dreadful and never-ending breath. Or perhaps, letting out a voiceless scream. Sanem wasn’t sure which image was more unsettling.

Logically, she understood the geography behind the disturbing shadow over the water, but the sight of it still turned her blood cold.

There were stories, naturally. Rumours spun from morbid curiosity and unholy superstition, fed by hundreds of years of disappearing sailors. That the cavern was the cursed tomb of some ancient god long since dead, others that suggested the dark waters hid the gateway to hell itself, or perhaps, at the very least it was the devil’s dog house - that the gaping hole in the cliff face had been carved out by the Kraken to form a nest amongst the jagged teeth of rock, that the blood coloured water was no lie. Ceycey loved that version the most. 

But one thing all of the stories had agreed on, was that there was a wealth hidden inside that went beyond the simple bragging rights of surviving the goddamn place, Yigit’s little guide had affirmed that idea, but it had been annoyingly vague about what it might be.

“Is it really true that no one has ever gone in and made it back out alive?” Ceycey asked, fully aware and in as much awe of its reputation as the rest of them. The cavern liked to eat.

“No,” Sanem replied, their faces of those standing on the command deck turning towards her, various shades of apprehension in their eyes. “Someone made it out, or else that book Yigit found would never have existed.” 

There had been no author's signature, and the paper had been old - old enough to be dusty and crumbling, and appeared to have spent a part of its life underwater. She hoped her trust in the age faded scribblings wasn't misplaced, but the voice of her curiosity was demanding and would not be ignored, forming a duet with the line of a nursery rhyme singing round in her head. And she’d not often been wrong before, it was the very reason she’d found herself in charge of a ship.

“What do you want us to do?” Deren asked. 

"We’ll let down the jib sail, keep the rest tied up. We need to go in slow." Sanem gave the order, before immediately feeling the need to do it herself, the Albatross had a tendency to work better under her own hands anyway, and if she was about to lead them into danger she needed to do it  _ herself; _  the reassurance of someone who had faith in what they were doing. 

But her stomach was doing somersaults on the inside. 

She had walked only a few steps across the main deck, Deren following closely behind, before she felt a hand surrounding her wrist, the gentle tug of it undemanding, followed by the voice that in her stubbornness to acknowledge she had almost forgotten was even there. 

"Sanem,” Can’s said, his voice gentle but concerned - the touch around her arm featherlight and distracting. "You can't be serious.” His eyes flickering between her and the cavern. “There are more than just your own crew on this ship. My men didn't sign up for this." They weren't the only ones he was concerned about.

Sanem set her jaw.  _ How ironic, that he would be concerned about  _ me _ hurting innocent bystanders _ , she thought, trying to ignore the grip around her wrist, aware that her eyes were having trouble meeting his. "As long as they stay onboard they won't come to any harm." 

"Sanem," His voice low in warning, pleading.

"Do you trust me?" She asked simply, finally meeting his eyes, trying not to visibly wince as soon as the question came out; a reflex born from distant years of familiarity, and by the look on his face, it stung him as much as it had her. 

He didn't seem to know how to answer that, so she took the opportunity to shake her arm free and continue to the bow of her ship. 

\---

The noise grew as they approached, a distant rush of water filling the mouth of the cavern, though when Sanem looked she could see no sign of the waterfall she’d expected, and felt no trace of mist against her skin.

Something was pulling them forward, an invisible current as inviting as the gentle lull of sleep after a long day. But the book had warned of that. 

The ship protested as rocks fierce as shark's teeth scratched along its side, the scraping harsh against the wooden hull, before her Albatross bravely continued onwards, something high in the rafters snapping as the roof of the cave ground against the central mast. She was beginning to understand why the guide had insisted on a smaller ship. Anything larger than her own would have been torn to shreds. Though she still didn’t understand why attempts to row inside with skiffs had always led to men disappearing.

Her eyes found Ceycey’s under the dim light of the ship’s lanterns, who looked both terrified and thrilled, a smile tinted with the rush of exhilaration. Sanem found herself smiling too, as her heart began beating determined and heavy in her chest. 

The faint sunlight illuminating the cave's mouth disappeared behind them as they ventured deeper, tentative as they became surrounded by shadow and the lifeless cavity of the island above. Keenly aware of the moment Can stepped closer beside her. 

Sanem called to Bulut standing at the wheel to keep the ship to the right; reconfirming the order after the starboard side grated painfully against the cavern wall. She held her breath, almost feeling the need to apologise to her ship. 

Empty minutes passed as the darkness pulled them in further, their senses adjusting to the disconcerting nothingness around them as the sound of surging water disappeared with the light behind them. Leaving them in ghostly silence. How far in had they travelled? Half a mile? More?

Until the ship hit something. The wood of the bow groaning loudly against a noise that sounded like the tumbling of pebbles, a deep rumbling against the distant cavern walls. 

Sanem had to catch herself from stumbling from the unexpected jolt of the Albatross under her feet, pulling her hand away the moment she’d realised she’d braced against Can’s arm as he moved forward to steady her. She cringed as the sound echoed, it felt wrong, invasive, like breaking the respectful and unsettling quiet of a graveyard. Before the cavern returned to cold silence a moment later, a shiver running down her spine.

\---

She found the pebbles under her feet when she ventured down, letting go of the ladder as she carefully settled on the shifting ground, hearing a few of the stones falling quietly into the water below. A bag over her shoulder should she find anything of particular interest for herself. 

Deren landed beside her a moment later, whispering. “Now what?”

“Now we have to find the entrance. We need a torch -” She turned, noticing the last of the small group she’d asked to follow joining them on the hidden beach, and one other she hadn't. 

"What are you doing?" She questioned, pushing towards him. "I told you to stay on the ship." 

"Do you really think there is any chance in hell that I would let you go down there without me?" Can's eyes as stern as his words had been. 

"I got us this far, I know what I'm doing, Can, I don't need you to-" 

"I know," His expression desperately finishing the words he was struggling to say, inadvertently answering the question she'd asked earlier.  _ I trust you, but I can not just sit here and wait while you disappear into the depths of a cavern that has already taken countless lives _ . "Please."

"Fine," She conceded, trying not to roll her eyes as she groaned internally. "Don't get in the way. And don't do anything stupid." She was aware her insistence on this venture was probably stupid enough for the both of them, but she didn't point it out. 

Can nodded.

A lantern was sparked to life, illuminating the air around them, the blackness of the pebbles under their feet now visible, along with the yellow glowing eyes of a cat that was supposed to still be on the ship. 

_ Bandit, what the hell are you doing? _ But before she had time to say it out loud, the cat was scrambling up the shore of jet-black stones, moving purposefully out of the small circle of light. 

Sanem followed. Taking the lantern from Bulut as the other’s fell in behind her. She’d learned enough from Gypsy to listen when a cat had something to say, letting him lead them up the slope of the beach. Finding him sat, tail twitching, and eyes held on an archway of polished volcanic stone. The same she’d seen drawn in the book Yigit had found, with only one detail unfamiliar. 

“Cursum perficio. What does that mean?” Deren frowned, reading the carvings etched into the rock a hundred times, in the same ceaseless hand Sanem had read in the pages of the book she’d burned. 

“My journey has ended.” Sanem translated roughly, aware it had done little to answer the question. 

Deren scoffed nervously. “Well, that's not ominous at all.” 

Sanem turned, finding the uneasy eyes of her friends; Bulut, Deren and Guliz all looking back at her. Allowing herself to meet Can’s, charged but with a hint of his own caution. 

“Ready?” She watched as they steeled themselves, letting the thrill of adventure and the stubbornness of determination burn away their last traces of worry as they nodded. 

Before Sanem took a deep breath, and stepped through the archway. 


	22. A Crystal Crown

The walls were more barnacles than rock as they descended. The tunnel damp and winding, their footsteps followed by a tedious and never-ending dripping sound that seemed to be coming from  _ everywhere _ . 

The book had mentioned nothing about the potential for the tunnels to flood, and by the looks of the smooth black stone under her feet, the tunnel had once been carved out by a river of lava. Sanem wasn’t sure which seemed more daunting; drowning in molten rock, or seawater. Lava would have been almost instantaneous, but the concept of burning flesh, even for a short while, didn’t seem nearly as peaceful as the quiet of being surrounded by a familiar blanket of ocean. 

She shook the thoughts from her head.

Bandit walked a short distance out in front. His tail flickering almost out of reach of the lantern light, black fur against black rock. Sanem had more than one moment in which she worried they’d lost him to the dark, but each time it happened he would turn and flash his yellow eyes against the glow of the candlelight. 

And so, Sanem followed Bandit. And everyone else followed Sanem. Guided by lanterns they’d taken off the ship that were illuminating barren rock walls and determined face, tinted with only the barest hint of unease. Though it would grow stronger the deeper they ventured. 

It became clear that whatever display of confidence the little cat was putting on in leading the expedition was little more than a facade as they reached another crossroads, the sound of his padding feet dying out into the near silence of the damp tunnels, waiting for Sanem to catch up and direct them down the next path.  Trotting on back ahead when she did.

It was a maze. A gridwork of twisting pathways, winding routes and dizzying redirections that would have sent a sane person mad or fumbling down towards something far more sinister than a dead end. 

Minutes passed before they reached another junction. Bandit at her heels before Sanem led them down the left passageway, hearing his paws scurry off ahead again. She was left suddenly wanting him to stay so that she might have someone else to focus on as she felt Can approach, falling into step beside her. 

“You found yourself another cat then.” He noted gently.

_ Small talk. _ He’d probably realised that anything more adventurous would have gotten his hand bitten off. Still, he should have realised bringing up that topic was like poking an old stab wound.  _ You’re running out of lifeboats there, Can. _ But Sanem couldn’t help noticing the slightly timid tone in his voice, it was the one thing that stopped her from snapping back at him.

She found herself struggling over a reply that wasn’t barred with teeth. So she didn’t say anything at all. Wishing the floor would be more interesting than it was so she might have a legitimate reason for staring at it so intensely.   

He accepted her silence as far from animosity as he would get today. 

“Sanem...” Can shuffled the bag on his shoulder. “You know I never intended to take Gypsy away from you, she must have snuck onto my ship, that night, before I went to join my mother. Before I...” 

_ Before. _

The words died before he could finish, the same bitter nostalgia running through his mind that Sanem allowed to torment her for only a second. 

She was aware it was silly that she’d allowed a cat of all things to become the figurehead of every ounce of malice she held towards him. But Gypsy had been more than just a cat, she’d been the last piece of the home and family she’d had to leave behind, a village left in the wake of black ash and burning buildings that had turned her lungs heavy and raw even though all the months of searching that followed. 

And yet, Gypsy’s disappearance was the only part of the story she’d ever felt comfortable sharing. A sacrificed playing card to hide an even worse hand.

Her reply was getting stuck in her throat. The excuse she was looking for to not reply presenting itself as they heard the unexpected sound of scuffled and rushed footsteps coming from behind. Bandit’s tail turning wiry as a brush as Sanem and her line of followers turned around. Hands over their weapons. 

But the candlelight revealed friendly, albeit unwelcome faces as the noise approached. 

“Ayhan!” Sanem scolded. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” Ceycey wheezed from behind the younger girl, leaning his hands against his thighs. ”I was trying to stop her.” 

“It’s been so boring on that stupid ship!” Ayhan protested. “This is the first exciting thing that’s happened in weeks. Maybe the most exciting thing that’s happened to me  _ ever _ . I couldn’t just stay behind twiddling my thumbs and listening to this one and my brother bicker over the correct method of making goddamn baklava for the hundredth time!” She glared at Ceycey. “It’s driving me insane!” 

Sanem had to stop herself from snorting. Aware that laughing would have come across as unwarranted praise to the younger girl’s recklessness. But how could Sanem blame Ayhan for the exact same shade of foolhardy disregard for her own welfare that had lead Sanem to becoming a pirate in the first place. ”How did you even follow us?”

“The light,” Ayhan explained simply. “It carries quite a distance down here. Can we stay? Please?” 

“Fine,” Sanem sighed. They’d only get lost trying to find their way back to the ship anyway. “But the next person who shows up uninvited is going to be on deck scrubbing duty for the next month. Understood?”  

 

* * *

 

They continued down. Can falling behind reluctantly to keep an eye on the two newbies at the back per Sanem’s request, a thinly veiled excuse to have him move as far away as possible. 

The floor turned slippery underfoot, smooth, damp rock broken by eerie shards of stone reaching up to the ceiling like scattered sharks teeth, though not as sharp, even more looming down from above, making it feel as if they’d just walked into the mouth of some giant snake-like creature. 

Sanem almost jumped when the lantern light caught on a flash of ivory white. Discovering a pair of skeletons slumped behind one of the larger spires on the left-hand side of the pathway. Followed by the sound of a gasp as Ayhan stumbled into the back of the group, her eyes distracted. 

They all just stared for a moment. Clean bone and hollow sockets where eyes had once been, yet Sanem still got the feeling they were staring right back. 

“See, I told you Ceycey,” Sanem began, her tone low. “We’re not the first to make it this far.”

“Yeah,” He replied, nerves clear in his voice. “And look how happy they seem about it.”

“What do you think killed them?” Deren asked, the question open to everyone though she turned to Guliz as she finished talking.

“I’m betting old age,” Ceycey suggested. “You never know, maybe they just lived down here. Maybe they were sweethearts, died peacefully holding hands or... something.” 

Guliz ignored that, stepping forward with all the brashness of a medic who’d seen enough of the inside of bodies to not be freaked out by something that was making the rest of them keep their distance.

“It’s hard to tell,” She shrugged poking at them. “There’s no obvious damage to the bones, but there’s a hundred different ways to die that would leave your skeleton intact.” 

“Oh, well that’s reassuring to know.” Ceycey laughed. “That’s like, twenty different ways for each of us, right?”

“You’ll be fine, Ceycey.” Sanem reassured, not about to point out the miss-step in his calculations, when she was starting to doubt her own. Her gamble on the scribbled contents of an old and dusty book was seeming more and more precarious the deeper under into the earth they ventured. Miles of heavy rock above their heads starting to feel suffocating. 

She put Bandit on her shoulder. Before continuing down the tunnel and leaving the dead to their solitude, though from all the rumours about this godforsaken place, she half expected the skeletons to suddenly get up and do some sort of macabre dance. It wouldn't have been the first unnatural thing she'd seen, though it was a stretch even by her experience.

But the dead stayed dead. And the tunnel grew colder.

 

* * *

 

The path continued for what felt like miles, Sanem was starting to get more than worried that she’d been leading them all round in circles. Until the sodden echoes of their footfalls finally turned deeper, and eventually overshadowed by something much louder. 

Waterfalls. It was a few minutes later before she had a sight to pin the sound to, the lack of light suddenly and unexpectedly no longer a problem, as the tunnel opened up in front of them.

The group came to a stop, jaws slack in astonishment, looking out over a vast jagged space far bigger than any cathedral Sanem had ever seen, the path under their feet giving way to open air and a cliff face that descended far enough to leave her dizzy. It was hard to judge the distance, though Sanem was certain that luck wouldn’t let a human fall from that height without at least one broken limb. 

More teeth of stone impending down from the ceiling, giant and monstrous as if they’d had an eternity to grow. Water rushing from gaping holes in the distance, the falling water forming a symmetric cavalcade of liquid pillars. Eight in total, bordering what appeared to be a large central walkway. The water pooling in deep basins below, before disappearing somewhere further under the earth that Sanem felt no need to explore. 

And she could see  _ all _ of it. Dimly lit by a blue glow that emanated from the walls around them. Flecks of light speckled over the ceiling and cavern walls like looking up at the splendour of the night sky on a perfectly clear evening. 

She stepped towards the wall closest to them, letting out a quiet awed laugh when she realised the light was coming from tiny creatures. 

_ Worms.  _

“Ew,” Ayhan whispered as she looked closer too.

“They’re amazing,” Sanem smiled, before slapping Ayhan’s invasive hand away. “Don’t touch them.” 

Deren stepped closer to the side of the ledge, eyes alight with blue and wonder as she stared for a few slow moments, before indicating towards the waterfalls. “Is that what we heard above, back at the entrance?”

“I think it must have been.” Sanem nodded, regretting that she’d left her sketchbook back on the ship. Though she doubted something like this would allow itself to be drawn by something so primitive as human hands, she doubted it had ever even meant to be seen by-

Something crumbled. Noisy and echoing, stone breaking at the edge of the outcrop, making Sanem’s heart stop as she became aware of the fact Deren was suddenly falling. Unstable ground under her feet giving way to empty air underneath. Letting out a surprised squeal as her hands clambered for something to grip onto. 

The lantern and the cat forgotten on the ground as Sanem darted forward, finding Deren had barely caught herself by the strength of her fingers. 

“Help.” Deren squeaked, slipping further as the rocks she was clinging onto collapsed further under her weight. 

Bulut was beside Sanem in an instant, leaning over to hook his hands under one of Deren’s arms as Sanem reached out for her other. Groaning as they tried to haul her back upwards. But Sanem had been able to boast of brawn, and the ledge was lending nothing to use as leverage. 

She felt Can appear beside her a second later, pressing close as he reached down and gripped onto Deren’s upper arm just above Sanem’s own hands. Heaving with all his strength while trying not to let himself be pulled towards the edge by gravity. 

The others rushed forward but there was no room for them to help without getting in the way.

But the three of them managed to haul Deren back up. Tugging her back onto the safety of solid ground before they all collapsed against the stone wall, breathing turned heavy.

“Maybe we should find a safer way down than that, hmm?” Bulut suggested, the humour doing very little to calm them.

Sanem nodded, forcing herself to her feet before raising the lantern and searching for the cat, finding his eyes blinking at her a distance to the right, standing atop the first step of a craggy staircase carved into the cave wall. Completely open and exposed on the left-hand side and barely a person wide.

“I think that will have to do.” She said, pointing.

 

* * *

 

There was next to nothing to hold onto, the odd dent in the right-hand wall where chunks of rock had fallen away, allowing her to dig her hand into for purchase. But the ground was uneven and wet under her feet. Stairs carved by unpractised hands for necessity rather than elegance, and turned damp from the mist of the waterfalls. 

She tested each step under her own feet before she let the others follow. Bandit trotting happily down on four nimble legs as the humans took each cautious step one at a time. 

Her guard lowered after making it halfway down, feet landing on loose gravel and slipping out from under her. Letting out a muffled squeal before she felt a hand grab at her arm to pull her back to her feet, she could tell it was Can’s just from the feel of it, his grip almost bruising in an attempt to stop her falling. This time she didn’t feel the need to shake him off once she’d found her feet again, offering a nod of thanks.  She was pretty sure she said it out loud too but it was hard to hear over the panicked thumping of her heartbeat. 

 

* * *

 

Flat ground was warmly greeted as they reached the bottom. Weaving their way through spires of stone and making their way towards the waterfalls in the centre of the chamber, standing as close as possible before talking became impossible over the roar.

“I think I’ve found where Yigit’s men disappeared to,” Guliz said solemnly, nodding towards a battered pile of broken wood that had probably once assembled a small boat. Corpses alongside it, as broken as the skiff, covered in the glowing worms, though Sanem felt no need to investigate why. 

The remains were not lonely, as she glanced around the rest of the cavern. Each of the pits surrounded by their own share of splintered wood and the white of bone.  _ The cavern likes to eat,  _ and this seemed to be its stomach.

A chill ran up her spine as she realised the current above had attempted to guide them towards the same grim fate, though the gaps in the ceiling that the waterfalls had made a home from seemed to be too small for a full ship to fall through. 

Bandit appeared to the right-hand side, catching her attention before he trotted away. Sanem waved for the others to follow. Jogging to catch up as he scampered towards the rightmost wall of the cave. 

And then he stopped. Sitting outside a polished marble archway, the same in almost every way to the one they’d seen above, save for the stark colour contrast and the lack of engraved, creepy messages. It was dark inside, the worms seemed to be leaving it alone.

“Is this it?” Bulut asked.

“I’m not even entirely sure what ‘it’ is.” Sanem shrugged. 

 

* * *

 

It looked like they’d just walked into a sea-god’s personal crypt. 

Stepping into a small chamber, a marble dais sat alone in the centre, the white blunt against the blackness that seemed to seep into the stone around it. The lanterns revealing piles of golden coins almost as big as her palm strewn around the rooms with a hundred other glittering things, metals and crystals and gems in an array of colours. She was certain she saw Ceycey’s eyes actually light up at the sight of it all.

The others immediately began moving around the room, digging through the hoards of treasure and shoving things in their pockets and packs. Pirate’s had a tendency to turn into hungry corvids when shiny things were around, but Sanem couldn’t condemn them for it, there was enough gold alone to keep them all fed and her ship running for the next few years at least. 

But Sanem was pulled towards something else, as her legs took her slowly towards the centre of the room. Pausing before her foot landed on the first of the white stone steps.

This felt wrong somehow. The chamber seemed comfortable in its isolation, they were intruders, stumbling into something that had been left untouched for aeons.

But curiosity had brought her this far.

She stepped forward, trying not to cringe at every echo of her footfalls. Until she reached the top, the surface of polished marble now visible. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected; perhaps the sarcophagus of some godlike creature - but there was no lid to budge out of the way, maybe an arrangement of holy relics, crowns and jewels of too high renown to be strewn across the floor with the rest, or at least words - a message carved into the smooth marble, scripture, runes, a warning,  _ anything _ . She frowned at what she found instead.

It was empty.

“Well, that’s disappointing.” She sighed. Logically, should have expected that the prize attraction might have already been taken, considering she’d been following the notes of someone who’d been here long before them.  _ Idiot. _

She took lead from her friends, moving back towards the edge of the room. Picking up one of the cold coins before biting it against her teeth, it was no currency she’d seen before, the designs foreign and old, but the weight of just one alone would have made up for the damage her ship had suffered trying to find their way in here. 

Her ears caught onto the sound of Can’s attempts to stop Ayhan messing around with a collection of glass knives she’d found in a small casket at the back of the chamber. Looking over to find the girl attempting to playfight with them as the weapons arched clumsily through the air in her hand. Sanem started to smile, but it died before reaching her eyes. Her chest turning tight at the memory of the first time she’d tried to practise with a dagger, and tighter still as she heard Can laughing fondly at the younger girls movements. It had been years since she’d heard that sound. 

She distracted herself by shovelling coins into the bag on her shoulder. There was far too much here for the seven of them to carry, they’d have to return with more people, the trip wouldn’t be as precarious the second time around. Hopefully.

Deren approached, having noticed the fleeting look that had passed in her captain’s eyes, standing close enough for the distant noise of the waterfalls to mask their conversation. 

“You okay?” Sanem asked as her friend stepped closer.

"You still love him." Deren ignored the question, the certainty on her face proving it a statement more than a query. "For a while, I wasn't sure if you still did, you'd convinced us all so well." 

"Deren-"

“I know you, Sanem. I know when you’re hurting, and you haven’t stopped since the moment you bumped into him in the city.” It had been a while since Deren had looked so serious, it was almost giving Sanem vertigo. “You need to tell him the truth. The whole truth, and I’m not saying that for his sake but for yours, you don’t deserve to be carrying it around on your own anymore.” 

Sanem opened her mouth but no words came out. 

“I’m not saying you have to forgive him,” Deren’s eyes turning kinder. “But you need to talk, you’ll regret it if you don’t.” 

Deren stepped away, leaving Sanem with the cheerlessness of her thoughts as her eyes found Can again across the room, though he didn’t seem to notice. 

There was a truth to it. As much as it would hurt to reopen that scar, but it was only torturing both of them to hold him ransom over something he wasn’t even fully aware of. 

But her courage had been drained for the day, it was not a conversation she wanted to have yet. 

Her eyes caught sight of something shimmering in the far corner of the room, away from the others. Behind a small pile of gold and gems, sat a skull. Human-sized and rolled on its side as if it had been discarded, the realisation that it was made of crystal dissolving her apprehension to pick it up. 

Something crashed as soon as she did. Her heart pounding as she turned to find Ceycey, sprawled on the ground on top of a silver candelabra and stack of treasures, the others laughing playfully at him after having witnessed him trip.

Sanem just shook her head fondly before her eyes returned to examine the skull in her hands. 

Quartz, as far as she could tell. Rosey coloured with streaks of white, a perfect replica of the ones she’d seen upstairs, albeit a little larger, every single perfect tooth in place. She couldn’t figure out the point of it, this type of crystal wasn’t exactly valuable, was it supposed to be decorative? Some sort of strange funeral right from a culture long since dead?

She found herself humming, the rhyme playing through her mind before she snagged on one of the lines, her eyes widening.

_ A crown of crystal. _

Could it be? This wasn’t exactly the shame or manner in which she’d expected to find it, and she couldn’t tell if she’d even expected at all. 

She slipped it into her bag, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed, taking little note of the coldness now seeping into the warmth the crystal had lent to her fingertips. Moving back towards the others, cursing as one of her feet found itself splashing into a puddle, the water soaking through the shoe.  _ Had that been there before? _

Ayhan walked over, a smile brightening her face as she held up a necklace of something that looked like the flash of diamonds. “Sanem, look what I-”

Something deep and heavy rumbled above them, louder than the snapping of a million falling tree trunks all at once, the ground shaking under their feet and the ceiling rattling above them. 

Can and Bulut drew their swords in reflex, and she would have laughed over their audacity in trying to fight the depths of the earth itself if not for the cold feeling of dread that was running down the back of her neck. 

“Uh, what was that?” Deren said, apprehension as clear in her eyes as it had been in her voice.

“Maybe it was just Ceycey tripping again,” Bulut tried to laugh but the sound dissipated as the chamber returned to an anxious silence.

And then it happened again, somehow louder than the first, the whole cavern above trembling in a way that almost felt angry, small chunks of rock falling from the ceiling. This time even Sanem found her hand instinctively landing on the dagger in her belt, her crew and Can instinctively forming into a defensive circle, as Ayhan squeaked and stumbled to follow suit. 

She found herself drawn shoulder to shoulder with Can, and if it were not for the dire circumstances she would have been furious over how easy it was for her body to gravitate towards him in a moment of unease, memories of years spent fighting back to back allowing her still to find reassurance in the feel of his body next to hers. Which should have only made her  _ more _ annoyed. 

The shaking finally stopped, their eyes held on the ceiling. Followed by Ceycey’s soft and defeated whisper. “We’re gonna die.” 

“No, we are  _ not _ .” Sanem turned to face her crew. Her eyebrows raising as she noticed Bulut suddenly dropping onto one knee in front of a startled Deren, something frantic in his eyes as he opened his mouth to start speaking. 

“OH, FOR DEVIL’S SAKE BULUT, NOW IS  _ NOT _ THE TIME!” Sanem yanked him back onto his feet. “We are not dying today. Move!” 

Sanem pushed them towards the archway, grabbing at Bandit as she found him cowering near the base of it. Racing back in the direction of the steps through a field of stone that was becoming submerged at a worrying speed, splashing around their ankles, the waterfalls suspiciously louder than they had been before. 

It was almost up to their knees when they reached the steps.

“You first.” Can insisted, as he caught up with her, his voice gruff and demanding.

“No.” 

“This isn’t some sinking ship, Sanem. Your the only one of us who knows the way out, if you die we all do.” 

He had a point. But it still felt disloyal as she began clambering back up the stairway ahead of the others, the water passing Can’s thighs by the time he followed at the back of the group.

She was almost at the top when she heard it, an enormous boom coming from the distant end of the cavern, like the clamour of a thousand overlapping clashes of thunder. Watching in horror as a chunk of rock the size of a large house fell down and crashed into the floor below, shaking the whole cavern to its core, water quickly filling the space and pouring down from above. 

She forced her feet to ignore the primal panic in her veins, waiting for the rest to reach the ledge, before she turned back into the tunnels. And ran.

 

* * *

 

She was keenly aware of the suffocating tonnes of rock that threatened overhead every time the rumbling began again, trickles of water pouring out of fissures in the walls, the path turning into a gentle stream as their rushing footsteps splashed against the ground. 

Bandit was turning her shoulder red from his claws, but Sanem ignored the sting of it. 

Turning at the first junction after a mere second to make sure the others were following.

The terror in her veins was making her head foggy and turning her heart to dread at every confluence of pathways. Forcing herself to take a deep breath before she led them down the next tunnel, reaching a point where she struggled to remember what lay ahead until the moment she got there and could  _ see _ each junction. The stream turning into a river as it caught around their ankles. Lungs burning as she pushed on through, years of sparring had not practised her legs for sprinting, and the fact the path was veering uphill wasn’t helping at all.  

The tunnels hadn’t seemed so long on the way in. The thought made her mind spin with the possibility they’d gone the wrong way.

She’d never been so happy to see a pair of skeletons in her life, and she might have laughed in relief if she’d had any spare air in her chest to do so. 

The water under their feet seemed to have calmed its chase. Sanem could only hope that meant they’d found their way close enough to sea level. 

She turned, sharing a nervously triumphant smile with Deren before checking that the others were still with them, the expression falling from her face as the earth began to rattle again above their heads.

And then the roof fell in. 

The teeth of rock near the rear of the tunnel breaking loose straight above Ayhan’s head. But before Sanem had time to scream, Can was shoving the younger girl towards Ceycey, who managed to pull her further out of harm's way. 

But the laws of gravity seemed to think little of Can’s heroics, as the rubble continued falling down over his head instead.

This time she did scream. Watching as he all but collapsed onto his hands and knees under the weight of it, the vicious clumps of rock showering down over his head and shoulders. 

She shoved Bandit into Guliz arms before darting forward, Bulut following behind as they pushed away the rumble and pulled Can onto his feet. Sanem winced at the bloodied grazed that had been left on the side of his face, his eyes out of focus and wobbly as they looked down at her hand supporting around his arm. 

“We need to keep moving,” The water seemed less of a threat for now but she didn’t feel like being trapped under miles of heavy earth, and more of the roof seemed to be crumbling down by the second. “Can you walk?”

“I’m okay,” Can insisted, taking one step forward before he stumbled sideways, bracing a hand against the tunnel wall. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Sanem shifted his arm over her shoulders, Bulut taking place on Can’s other side to support him. 

He seemed able to walk straight like that, but running was going to be impossible.

“Why does someone always end up with a concussion?” She mumbled under her breath.

_ Gods, this was going to be slow. _

 

* * *

 

They made it to the next crossroads, as water starting pooling warningly high around their legs one again, the tunnel shaking every so often in a way that Sanem could feel right through to her bones. Another shard of rock breaking and shattering against the ground behind them.

“Sanem,” Bulut said, his eyes held nervously on Deren, his breathing uneven. “You need to get the other’s out.”

“I can’t just leave you-”

“Get them out, you’ll be faster without us.” His turned towards her, desperate. “Please.” 

Sanem glanced at Can, who was nodding despite the fact he seemed unable to focus his eyes on hers, the weight of his arm shifting off her shoulder as he pulled away. “Go.” 

She’d really didn’t want to, but when she looked up, her eyes found her crew; Ayhan, gaze wide and terrified, Ceycey with shaking hands and Guliz’s knuckles turned pale as a ghost as she gripped onto the metal handle of a lantern.

Sanem conceded, leaving Bulut with a rushed set of directions as best as she could recall, before she stepped forward, grabbing Deren’s hand to make sure she wouldn’t try to stay behind. “Come on.”  

 

* * *

 

The water was almost at their knees, it was becoming difficult to walk.

_ How many crossroads were left? Three, four?  _ Sanem paused when they reached the next fork in the path, frozen by the realisation that she’d forgotten this one even existed, aware that she’d left Bulut with nothing but guesses to guide him. 

They were going to have to wait.

But they couldn't wait, they were running out of time. 

Sanem’s keen turned into a frustrated groan, wracked her brain, before suddenly recalling what Ayhan had said about the candlelight, leading them down a left-hand tunnel that practically backtracked along the one they’d just been down, before taking Ceycey’s lantern and balancing it on the unusually flat surface of a stone spire before continuing on. 

She hoped it would be enough.

 

* * *

 

They were walking in complete darkness by the time they reached the final passageway, having sacrificed the last of their lights to guide the path for those behind. Running again as the tunnel gently sloped upwards and out of reach of the impending water. 

Sanem wasn’t sure if she wanted to start laughing or crying when the solid ground under her feet turned from hard rock to shifting pebbles, glancing up to see the candle lights of her ship a distance away. Fumbling down the beach with the others close behind, though the shoreline was lower now than she remembered.

Sanem called out, watching as Deniz’s face appeared from over the railing, before rushing towards the rope ladder and let it drop back down the side of the ship. Sanem took the cat back from Guliz, allowing the medic to wade through the water and climb up with the others as instructed, finding an astonished crowd forming around them as their wobbling feet finally landed back on the wooden deck of the Albatross. 

“Oh my god,” Deniz greeted, pulling Guliz into a tight hug. “When we heard the earthquakes we thought you were all dead for sure.”  

Sanem and Deren were left anxiously waiting on the beach, eyes glued on the darkness of the black stone archway. Trying to listen over the metallic churning of the winch as the rowboat was lowered over the edge of the ship, the ground under their feet shaking again. Her heart starting to beat through her throat.

Sanem almost stepped back towards the entrance before Deren caught her hand, shaking her head slowly. 

Slow minutes passed and there was still no sight of them. Sanem’s head was spinning, what if the water caught them? What if they had stumbled down a dead end, what if the rock had collapsed and crushed the air out of their lungs, what if, what if. 

What if.

_ Come on. Please, please, please.  _

Her heart almost started singing when she finally watched them emerge, faces bloody and battered. But alive. 

She had to hold herself back from running towards him, letting out a breath of relief as she moved forward, taking Can’s unsteady weight against her own body to allow Deren to greet Bulut in the way Sanem could not. Her body almost slamming into his, arms smothering as they held him, Bulut’s wrapping around Deren just as tight. As Sanem began leading Can through the water and into the skiff with Bandit in one arm. Bulut and Deren following after they’d pulled away. Slumping against the wood to pacify the ache in their limbs.

“I think that went well.” Can said, encouraging the rest of them into half-sobbed laughter, as the boat began to rise upwards.

“It could have been worse.” Sanem granted. Sitting back up, noticing the red streak dribbling down from his nose. “You’re bleeding.”

“I got lucky actually,” Can winced as he prodded it. “I think that rock undid the damage your fist caused.”

“Sorry about that,” His eyes caught hers, surprised to hear her say the words. 

 

* * *

 

She was drowned in hugs when she tumbled back onto the ship. Indulging in it for a moment before she yelled for the ship to move off - this wasn’t over yet. She had a feeling getting out was going to be harder than getting in. 

Guliz stepped towards Can when she noticed the blood gushing from various places on his head. Forcing him to sit as she did her best to wipe it away and check the need for stitches.. 

Sanem stood nearby, trying not to appear overly worried, before spying another patch of dark red soaking into the white of his cotton shirt. Her hands finding their way unabashed to the skin underneath as she pulled the material out of the way, finding a gash of something sharp embedded into his torso.

“How did that happen?”

“Honestly I don’t remember.” He admitted, unflinching from her touch as he stared down at the wound.

“Oh, you idiot.” Guliz sighed. “I don’t have enough bandages for all this.” 

Sanem pulled out her knife, methodically cutting of a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt for Guliz to tie around his waist. But it wasn’t the dressing his eyes were caught on as it was fitted in place.

“You still have it,” He said softly, his gaze stuck on the familiar silver dagger in her hand. 

Sanem was left fumbling for a moment, ignoring the flickering of Guliz eyes on her face before the medic turned away politely, and Sanem replied simply. “Of course I do.”

“Sanem!” Deniz called from the helm. “We need you.” 

Sanem met his eyes one last time, before hastening up towards the command deck.

 

* * *

She found the maelstrom of the new waterfall, unable to see in the darkness but feeling an unexpected and overpowering tug as her ship suddenly lurched to the side and the wheel began spinning out of her grasp. A few of Can’s men rushed over as well as some of her own. The weight of all five of them needed to force the wheel back into alignment, something deep within the ship protesting under the strain of it. Until the strength of the current seemed to pass, and the light of the cavern’s entrance welcomingly came into view. 

But their well-earned cheers of triumph looking out at daylight and the open ocean lasted only a brief moment. 

It was unfair, really, that misfortune seemed to have chosen Sanem as its favourite plaything; that when things went wrong they seemed to go  _ colossally _ wrong.

Escape was surrounded. The unsympathetic figures of two ships sat guarding the exit like a pair of fat cats waiting impatiently outside a mouse’s den, one a mess of patched up wood and tattered dark blue sails, far less broken than how she'd last seen it, and the other, a warship that she was certain she’d left stranded in the middle of an uninhabited archipelago. 

A few thoughts graced her mind as the Albatross sailed past the cavern’s mouth towards her enemies. Firstly, a sense of respect that they hadn’t both died despite all the hurdles she'd put in front of them, secondly, a hundred different failing possibilities of how she might get out of this unharmed, and the third, far more uncivilised, and that she failed to keep quiet as her battered and exhausted ship was slowed to a stop before them.

“Ah, fuck.”


	23. Sailor's Take Warning

**Four years and eight months ago.**

The morning was pink. A timid blue sky blushing with the rosy glow of sunrise as cold light fell on cold water, the colour catching on the waves. 

It was a tragedy, really, that Sanem was paying it no attention, as she sat with her hand rushing black lines over white paper, her nose buried reverently in the sketchbook pressed against her lap. Wings unfurling and tilting as they caught on the breeze, dark eyes in elegant, beaked faces, plumage a rainbow of colour, as she tried to capture each and every delicate feather. 

She’d been doing little else for the last five weeks. 

Her arm protested the movement, as gentle as it was; stretching in an attempt to work out the knots that had formed in her limbs. The anticipated consequence of Deren so kindly throwing away all trace of kindness in sparring practise the previous afternoon. Sanem had, at the time, agreed that four months was probably long enough to be babied while holding a sword, still, the speed that Deren’s blade had rushed at her had been enough to make her squeak. But she had lost no limbs, as much as it might feel like it, and had managed to do more than just stand her ground. Out of breath and red-faced as they both witnessed Deren’s sword clamouring onto the wooden floor beneath their feet - a trick Sanem’s eyes had stolen through watching the others, a trick her limbs seemed to reenact entirely of their own accord. Deren had nodded in approval, her eyebrows raised. 

Their little lamb was growing horns.  

And every single muscle in her body ached from the effort of it, the pencil held sturdily in her hand despite how easy it would have been for the little stick of wood to slip from between her fingers.

Cold wind shuffled through her hair in concern over the precarious choice of location for her sketching. It was a cold that reminded her of winters back home, days before the snow would fall when she and her sister would sit around the warmth of the ovens, eyes peering out through frost tinted windows for the first fragile signs of snowflakes.

It was a thought that made her smile. Until the memory turned hollow in her heart a moment later, aware that Leyla probably thought her dead, that her whole family probably thought her dead. She blinked the image away, shaking her head.

The sudden wobbling of the platform underneath her caused her hand to brace against the balustrade, watching as Guliz’s face appeared from below, arms pulling her up and through the open section in the railing of the crow’s nest. Her smile of greeting unsurprised to find Sanem there. 

 "Morning," Guliz tried to stifle a yawn through the words, her eyes quickly scanning the horizon though the vantage point revealing nothing of concern. Nothing at all. Save for miles and miles of gentle waves and brisk water.

“Morning,” Sanem replied, tapping her pencil against the pages absentmindedly, before she felt Guliz settle down opposite her, fully aware that this space was not designed to house two people at once. But Sanem had learned that boundaries of personal space seemed little more than guidelines to most of the people living on this ship. She had adapted to recognising the coziness of it rather than the infringing of etiquette she had been raised with.

She watched as Guliz fumbled through her pockets, pulling out two apples before throwing one towards Sanem, who had been so taken aback by the sudden appearance of fruit that she narrowly avoided letting it tumble down onto the deck a distance below.

Sanem stared at it for a moment in her hands. “Where did you find these?”

“There was a tree in someone’s garden on that last place we stopped at.”

“You pirated apples?” Sanem asked, trying not to smile. 

“They would only have gone to waste otherwise, no one can eat a whole tree of apples on their own.” Guliz reasoned, biting into her own with a crunch.

It hadn’t taken long for Sanem to realise there was always an excuse for the things they stole, though the red of apples might not be worth the same as the shimmer of gold, the defence was always the same - and she had never seen them take anything that was genuinely needed, or that hadn’t already been stolen from someone else.

“Eat,” The shorter girl prompted, noticing Sanem was still staring at the fruit in her lap. “You don’t want to be getting scurvy.”

Sanem raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was oranges.” 

“We work with what we can find.” Guliz accepted, her gaze turning to look out at the sunrise as it turned a shade of coral against the soft blue of the sky. Frowning at the sight of it despite how pretty it was.

Sanem complied, trying to ignore the way time had turned the apple unappealing mushy, and trying not to focus on the untouched conversation that was hanging in the space between them that Sanem could feel as tangible as the stillness of the air right before it rains - Guliz had not come here to talk about fruit, and Sanem was just stalling.

“So,” Guliz ventured. “What brings you up here so early on this beautiful autumn morning?” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Sanem replied simply, folding her sketchbook closed and tucking the pencil down the binding. “I keep having nightmares.” 

Guliz’s jaw stopped moving. “About what?” 

Sanem let her eyes fall shut, trying to ignore the dry sting as she blinked them open again. 

Something dark had held her hand last night. As it had done the night before, and the night before that, almost every time she tried to close her eyes. Guiding her through fathoms of cold and cities made of shards of ice, desperation pulling her under the frozen waves that glimmered like diamonds as Sanem tried to scream, the sound coming out voiceless. 

“Ice,” Sanem answered quietly as if it were a secret, the word almost sounding like a question. “I was drowning in ice. Again.” 

Guliz’s shoulders visibly relaxed, Sanem could only assume she’d been relieved to not hear of night terrors stained with dripping blood, sharp swords and the face of the man they called captain. “I think we need to get you some warmer clothes.” 

Sanem just nodded. She’d been ignoring the dreams for as long as they’d been happening, it would stop eventually. Like the time as a child she’d accidentally burned the skin of her wrist red while working the ovens, plagued by nightmares of their house burning down for weeks after. Guliz was probably right.

A cheeky expression flickered over her friend’s face a moment later, that made something in Sanem’s chest drop in despair. "But in the meantime, if you need somewhere warmer to stay, I know of a very cosy cabin with a proper bed; comfortable sheets, throw pillows, _and_ its own personal body warmer. It’s currently occupied but I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing with-" 

"Guliz!" Sanem was hardly even aware that the remainder of her apple had left her hand until it thumped against Guliz’s side with slightly more than just playful force behind it, enough to earn her a halfhearted ‘ow,’ from the medic. Watching as it tumbled over the platform and fell against the top of Tursuan’s unfortunate head just as he emerged from below deck, yelping before he gazed upwards as if he’d just witnessed the sky falling in. The two women ducked out of sight as Guliz attempted to stifle snorted giggles and Sanem buried her burning face in her hands. 

She peeked through a gap in her fingers a moment later to find the humour in her friend’s eyes fading to something tainted with sombre as she looked out at the ocean. “He misses you.” 

Sanem’s brown eyes blinked, the sudden serious tone in the conversation helping to dispel the colour in her cheeks as her hands fell away. “Who?” The question slow and nothing more than a poorly veiled avoidance strategy. 

“Can.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised at the level of awareness she found in Guliz’s expression, she’d scarcely even told Deren the full extent of what had happened that day in the city, and Metin was no gossip. Other matters had taken precedence, until their moment under the fireworks seemed to have been buried like a flower at the bottom of a grave. But Guliz had a near mortifying habit of picking up on things. Aware that something must have happened for their regression to silence to feel so loud. 

Sanem tried a reply, but could find nothing honest to say other than ‘I miss him too,’ and that seemed to reprimand the whole reasoning behind her absence, so she said nothing.

“Sanem,” Guliz’s expression softened. “I know us pirates can come across as a bit… feral at times, but you know he would never actually hurt you, don’t you?” 

Sanem nodded slowly, wishing she could take the pencil back within her hand to give herself a distraction, but the book was still closed and she couldn’t imagine that changing that fact would be particularly subtle. 

“Then why are you avoiding him?” 

Sanem found her sleeves to fidget with instead. "I’m not." It was a pitiful reply, but this wasn't a conversation she wanted to be having right now, especially with someone who seemed to walk around with the skills of an emotional magnifying glass. 

"No?" Guliz raised an eyebrow, indicating to the rails of the crow’s nest around them. "Then what do you call this? Sneaking up to the literal furthest point you could possibly get away from him."

Sanem wrestled her brain for a reply before her eyes fell onto one. "I came here to draw." Though, technically, she could have done that anywhere, and nearly all of the rest of the crew weren’t even awake yet.

"Ah, yes. Such pretty views of all the birds you keep stored away in your pretty little mind." Guliz joked. They were, unfortunately, too far gone from any trace of land to find shorebirds, and had stumbled across no ocean wandering species. Sanem was still waiting for that. “And don’t think I haven’t picked up on how keen you’ve been to volunteer yourself for extra night shifts recently.” 

Sanem almost winced at the sudden sternness in her friend’s voice. She wished Guliz would just stop _noticing_ things for once. 

The medic finished her apple, hurtling the core over the edge of the boat towards the water, silence displacing the distant sound of it splashing quietly into the waves. 

Guliz folded her legs underneath her, patting the space on the platform just in front of her lap. “Come here.”

“Why,” Sanem squinted her eyes in mock suspicion. 

“Because all this time you’ve spent up here has turned your hair wild and we need to do something about it before it runs away from us forever,” Guliz explained, raising her hands in the air and wiggling her fingers in offering. 

Sanem raised her eyebrows, but not from the insult - she knew the medic well enough to know she’d meant nothing by it, and was probably just offering as a way of deflecting Sanem’s unease with the conversation. But she’d only ever let her sister braid her hair before.

She allowed herself after a moment, turning around and shuffling into place, before wondering if Guliz had planned for the sudden lack of eye contact and the feeling of fingers combing through the dark waves of her hair to be so disarming.

And just like that, she was back sat in front of the warmth of a fireplace with Leyla practising patterns in the dark brown tresses falling down the back of her neck, hands running delicately over her scalp as they worked. Sanem had to stop herself from melting. 

“You know,” Guliz began gently. “I’ve worked on a lot of ships. Can wasn’t my first captain, but since finding my way into his crew a few years ago, I’ve always hoped he would be my last. I know that probably sounds a bit... cheesy, or whatever.” 

Her hands loosely folded ribbons of hair carefully in place that her fingers collected from above Sanem’s left ear, working her way slowly down. “But Can’s different. He’s a bit more, I don’t know - domesticated, than the others. Though I know that might be hard to imagine after what you saw him do. But he’s not like that, not really.” 

Sanem tried to stop herself from nodding, aware it would disturb Guliz’s artwork. 

“He doesn’t kill like that unless he has to. I’ve never known him to do something like that unless it’s in defence of people he cares about, in defence of people he loves.” 

The medic’s hands left the first braid halfway down, forming another on the other side as Sanem tried to ignore the feeling of something deep within her chest expanding at her words. 

“You have to understand, Ayaz was practically a third parent to him. Mirhiban and Aziz raised him but they worked long hours; Can spent most of his childhood growing up in that glass shop. So to find his uncle dead, and then have to watch the person involved in his murder try to threaten _you_. It’s just -” Guliz sighed, looking for the words. “It’s exceptional circumstances, so please don’t think he’s like that, because he’s not.” 

Sanem pushed passed the lump forming in her throat. “I know.” 

Time had misplaced the fear that had burned inside her that evening, but in truth, it was not the only thing that had been rushing through her veins, she wasn’t sure which one she’d been hiding from. But the second was burning still. 

It had disturbed her, to begin with. Callous murder was so far removed from the peaceful little village life that raised her; it had seemed barbaric, unnecessary - until she remembered the feel of the cold blade pressing against her neck. Reminding herself over and over that she could not hold Can to the morality of the world she had grown up in when his own was so violent. He had only been trying to keep her safe.

“Good,” Guliz said, as she began weaving the remainder of the two mirrored braids together as they joined and grew in the middle. “Because you’re the only one that can stop him moping about like he has been for the last month.” 

Sanem felt her nose scrunch up, aware that her tiptoeing around the ship was torturing more than just herself, especially at a time when Can would have been needing the warmth of consolation rather than the cold abandonment she’d left him with. That realisation made guilt sting at her heart. “I didn’t mean to upset him.” 

“Oh, honey, he’s not upset with you,” Guliz promised. “He’s upset with himself. He’s trying to be discreet about it, but that man’s emotions are about as subtle as trying to slice fruit with a battle axe.”

Sanem laughed, letting the ease of it flood her chest as she felt Guliz hands go quiet.

“There, I think I’ve tamed it for now.” 

Sanem reached out carefully to feel Guliz’s handiwork, the pads of her fingers working gently over a cascading pattern amongst the brown waves that felt similar to one of the designs Leyla used to adore, surprised to feel gemmed pins holding it in place. 

“Thank you.” Though Sanem couldn’t tell if her gratitude was in response to their talk, or finally being able to see without the wind dancing wisps of hair in front of her eyes. 

“Talk to him,” Guliz nudged as Sanem turned back around to face her. “He thinks he’s lost you, and I think he’s worried he’ll scare you away even further if he pushes.” 

Sanem nodded, humming in understanding as she listened to the noise of the rest of the crew waking below. Taking one last look at the sketchbook in her hand before shoving it into the satchel that held the rest of her pencils.

The last of the sky’s pink traces settled to blue as she easily made her way down the trellis of rope, her feet landing back onto the deck of the ship before making her way over to Deren. 

Sanem was done hiding, done holding them both in purgatory. Taking a deep breath and praying that whatever confidence she’d found that had allowed her to kiss Can that day hadn’t abandoned her entirely, she had a feeling she would be needing it again. 


	24. Ikiüous pt.1

**Four years and eight months ago.**

Can had been keenly aware of her absence. Even more so now that they were creeping closer and closer to lands she had grown up on.

It wasn't a coincidence. A part of him was preparing to let her go, for her to fly away like a bird on new feathers the moment the cage door was opened, and he wasn't hiding from the chance to let her. At least, he was trying not to. But even the thought of her goodbye was painful and his feet were stubbornly refusing to walk towards it, allowing him the false comfort of what little time he had left before he was sure she would leave them.

 _When had he become so soppy_? He wondered, before accepting that it was probably around the same time he’d let a scruffy black and ginger cat sleep at the foot of his bed.

He wasn’t sure what had made him fall so fast. Perhaps it was the way she walked through life with an open heart, a touch in everything she did that could rival the gentleness of a baby bird, and eyes that lit up like the light of the summer stars in the moments when the world proved there was still so many more wonderful things to find.

Perhaps it was because of how she could forget the whole world around her as her hands conceived a mini masterpiece over every page of her sketchbook. He wasn’t sure now how many hours he’d spent simply watching her draw. She still hadn’t noticed.

Maybe it was the shadow of being raised in a world of innocence. How she had become his piece of serenity, when he’d been born unto ocean storms.

How she was kind. In a world that was not.

Because Can had seen thousands of beautiful things. But now he had seen the last that would ever matter and it seemed unfair that their time was almost over when he had so much more of his heart left to give her.

_Gods, this was going to kill him._

Maybe another universe would have been more forgiving - that life would have allowed them to live and love without the threat of the blood and daggers that had raised him. In a universe where reaching for a weapon did not come to him so easily. Maybe they could be happy.

Or maybe his heart would have been left broken in every single one of them.

 

* * *

 

Sanem had realised she was no longer the one playing a game of avoidance.

It was as if her own sudden change in demeanour had sparked Can’s own withdrawal, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out why.

The cards had changed hands, and although Can’s movements seemed unintentional and held no malice, the reaction was enough for her to feel a mere ounce of what she’d been putting him through for the last month. And it had only been a few hours.

“Where exactly is it we are going?” Sanem asked, trying not to let her face sulk as she slumped down against the cabin wall next to where Deren had been diligently trying to patch up the stab holes in an old purple cloak. Using a needle that seemed to prefer finding its way into the skin of her fingers more than where it was actually  _supposed_  to be going. Understandably, Deren was scowling.

“Ikiüous.” Deren replied simply, a tone that sounded unfriendly but that Sanem had learned did not hold the anger it suggested. She watched, amused, as Deren suddenly hissed in pain, her hand shooting away from the bundle of material draped over her lap. A very pink thumb finding its way into her mouth as she groaned out a curse.

“Ikyos?” Sanem tried parroting it back - it had far more vowels than a name had any right to have.

“No.” Deren said bluntly, offering no correction as she returned to her work.

“That’s pretty much how you said it,” Sanem protested, watching with a raised eyebrow at her friends fumbling hands.

“You have to pronounce it like you’re saying it lazily,” Deren squinted at the cloak, trying to concentrate. “You know, like you’re half a glass away from being flat out drunk. Which, coincidentally, is the exact reason the locals- Oh, devil’s hell, goddamn it!” Deren cursed, throwing the garment onto the floor in frustration as she glared at the red seeping out from underneath her fingernail. “I hate these stupid things! Give me a sword any day but as soon as I try picking up one of these pitifully small pieces of shit I just end up jabbing myself a thousand times? Why is it so hard?”

Sanem’s amused snort couldn’t be contained. “I think, Deren, the problem is that you’re not actually supposed to use them as weapons.”

Sanem gathered the cloak into her own lap from where it had been strewn across the deck, taking it into her own lap before she adventured to try to find where the needle had hidden itself. Commandeering the task with stubbornly well-practised hands. Her mother had always insisted she learn, but Sanem had never seen much point in it until she’d discovered the delights of making voodoo dolls to scare off some of the older kids in her village when their taunting became too harsh. Sinan had found it hilarious. Her mother had not.

Deren stilled herself with a few slow breaths, annoyance simmering now that the ordeal had been handed over to someone who seemed to know how to make the damned needle behave.

“Ikiüous,” She began “Is an island. I think we should be there by morning, or should at least be able to see the first glimpses of it by then. Can wants to check in with the alliance again-”

“Alliance?”

“Mavi Canavari.” Deren turned to face her, contemplating how much of a history lesson was going to be needed. “Surely you’ve heard of it, or have you been living under a rock as well as on top of one?”

Sanem pulled the memories from the midst of childhood playground games and the dramatised stories they used to beg the old fishermen to tell as they sat with attentive ears and wide eyes. She had heard of them - but in the way a dormouse might have heard of the sea, it had seemed like such a faraway concept it was never something she’d thought she’d actually have to worry about. And now, she was technically a part of it.

“I know of it.” What she didn’t know was where the frayed edges of drama and truth began and ended, how much of what she knew had been told in stories just for the sake of having a story to tell.

“Well, Ikiüous is kinda the designated contact point for the Mavi Canavari. We don’t exactly own the island but we might as well.” Deren explained. “It’s not the most exciting of places, there’s a small pirate town, but the land is mostly just overrun with this giant old forest. The captains use it to pass over letters, pieces of information, even people sometimes. We would have been there days ago if we hadn’t had to sneak around those stupid Kapari navy vessels that keep lurking around.”

Sanem’s ears caught onto that name. “We’re near Kapari?”

_We’re near home?_

Deren nodded in affirmation, taking no notice of how Sanem quickly became overly interested in the heap of purple material in her lap and the thread that was remedying its broken pieces.

“The dipshits after that stupid marble should leave us alone now that we’re in reach of Can’s mother. Unless they decide to be remarkably stupid.” Deren frowned.

The part of Sanem’s mind that had been drifting miles away returned to the ship at the infamous captains mentioning. “Are we going to meet up with her?”

“No,” Sanem noticed the way Deren’s nose scrunched up for a moment before she continued. “Can likes to avoid her as much as politely possible. But just being in her vicinity should be enough, you might swat at a lone wasp but you should never poke at its nest.”

“Have you ever met her?” Sanem wondered.

“No.” Deren shook her head. “Not personally. Thank god.”

The patchwork took a backseat as Sanem's curiosity became too distracted for her hands to function. “Is she really that horrid?”

Her friend nodded. “Right piece of work. I think I’d rather be stuck in a room with a handful of crowns guards.”

“But what’s she actually done?”

Deren paused. “I don’t know, a bunch of pirate shenanigans mostly. Stealing, killing. Delightful stuff like that.”

“We’ve done that too.” Sanem contended.

“Yeah, but she’s-” Deren sighed, thinking for a moment. “She had a kid. Then abandoned him as an infant to the badlands of a city full of crime and violence. Touson’s nice as a day visit but my god, I wouldn’t want to have grown up there. Maybe it’s just my opinion, but I think what she did was a pretty solid entry for worst mother of the year award.”

 _That was a fair point_ , Sanem thought.  _But given the option, surely sending a kid away would have been better than trying to raise them on a ship?_  Any sympathy that might have been brewing quickly died when she remembered that Can had lived fourteen years without getting so much as a single letter.

Sanem’s hands returned to needlework as the conversation went quiet.

“Anyway,” Deren said after a few minutes, her tone now softer. “Where’s your cat been? I don’t think I’ve seen her in a few days.”

“ _My_ cat? I think you’ll find she’s decided she’s Can’s now. The little darling’s deserted me.” Sanem joked.

“Ah, so she’s sided with the boyfriend while your stubbornly refusing to talk to each other.” Deren nodded her head slowly, mockingly.

“He’s not-” Sanem faltered, trying to stop herself from clearing her throat as her cheeks warmed. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“He should be.”

 _I know,_ she thought, distracting herself with threading the last of the tares.

“Do you want me to push you overboard?” Deren asked unexpectedly, her face remaining stoic and serious as she said it.

Sanem paused, narrowing her eyes at her friend in confusion. “Why would I want you to do that?”

“So he can dive in after you,” Deren replied, the faintest glimmer of jest in her eyes. “You know, break the ice a bit with a good old fashioned rescue mission - maybe if we’re lucky you’ll start shivering so much that you could play the whole need for body warmth trick.” She shrugged. “Seems foolproof to me.”

Sanem snorted, a smile spreading across her face. “Please don’t do that.”

Deren shrugged in defeat but the mischief playing over her expression didn’t leave. Which only made Sanem nervous.

Sanem rolled her eyes fondly before holding the purple cloak out in front of her, the last of its wounds now stitched up.

“There,” She said proudly, handing it back over to her friend. “All finished.”

Deren’s hands fawned over the material looking both impressed and annoyed that Sanem had finished in minutes what she had put aside a whole afternoon to fix.

“Keep it.” Deren said, passing it back. “I was trying to fix it up for you anyway. Our lamb needs a coat.” Deren cleared her throat, the affectionate insult a thinly veiled diversion from the unfamiliar moment of generosity.

Sanem blinked. She wasn’t sure what law of hospitality she’d just broken in taking over the mending of her own gift. But she smiled anyway. “Thank you.”

And Deren smiled back.

 

* * *

 

The island came into view just as the glimmer of starlight began to abdicate to the rise of the morning sun.

Sanem stepped out onto a captainless deck. Again. Sighing as she made her way over to where the dawn crew were sitting lazily now that others were beginning to wake up too. Letting her arms rest against the rail next to where Muzo and Guliz had set up a shanty of a table out of two empty barrels and a wooden plank, that, in a more honourable past life, had once made up the hull of a ship - the remains of which were now probably at the bottom of the ocean somewhere. Sanem didn’t ask.

She found her eyes closing for a moment. Feeling the cold breeze against her face and the warmth of the brazier behind her back that someone had lit as a haven in the cold and early hours of the morning. Her ears paying half a mind to her friend’s conversation.

The wind had carried a Shearwater to them yesterday evening. She’d watched as it played through the ships sail winds like a reef fish amusing itself on the back of a patient turtle.

She’d seen the birds around the coastlands at home, rarely. But enough to already have a few pages of the dainty little things, and knew enough that is appearance meant they’d be finding dry land soon.

She was getting too used to this. A life of idleness broken only by the fierce intensity of battle; noise and knives and cannon fire. But it was becoming the blood in her veins as surely as holding a pencil in her hand had all those years ago. It was addictive.

It had seemed strange, at first, for Can to have so many sailors that sitting around playing cards was a perfectly acceptable waste of time. But the heart of oak and cedar under her feet was carrying more than just a crew, she had learned. It was carrying its own army.

“You know,” Muzo was saying as he frowned at his cards. “I don’t understand why we can’t just drop it into the sea. If we don’t have it, it can’t be a problem anymore.”

 _The key_ , Sanem assumed. Her approach doing nothing to startle whatever conversation they’d been having, as they played a game she had never heard of, with a set of cards that seemed to be being far kinder to Guliz than they were to Muzo. As far as she could tell.

“Sure, we could do that,” Guliz replied dryly. “But that would mean we’d no longer have the benefit of  _having_  the damn thing, and everyone chasing us would have no idea it was now in the possession of the bottom of the ocean rather than still with us.”

Muzo let out a laugh. “Maybe the fish would have better luck figuring it out than we have.” Sanem caught a look of his hand after he grimaced almost unnoticeably.

“I’m impressed anyone has even had the balls to come after it. I can’t tell if it’s brave or reckless.” Guliz said. “it's like everyone's suddenly forgotten who they’re dealing with?”

“We have gotten a bit soft recently,” Muzo pointed out, doing nothing to try to hide his glance towards Sanem. “And that key’s got us spinning round in circles after something we’re never gonna find, like a puppy after its own tail.”

“The difference being that a puppy actually  _has_  a tail.” Guliz noted.

“You guys don’t think it’s real?” Sanem asked. “Anaiga?”

Guliz thought for a moment, placing another card down that made Muzo glare at her. “I think it might be.” She decided after a few long moments. “But I’m not gonna go throwing my faith into a nursery rhyme that has been around for thousands of years. Who knows what parts of it have been mistranslated or lost since then. For all we know that key might just be a pretty piece of glass.”

“It does feel strange though,” Sanem intercepted. Making them both looked up at her, eyes drawn away from their game. “When you hold it, I mean.”

“How so?” Guliz asked slowly, the crease above her eyebrows deepening.

 _Had they never had the chance to hold it before?_  She wondered. “It’s… I don’t know. It makes your skin go cold, and it tingles, kind of.”

Muzo looked at her as if she'd just told them Gypsy had chased down and caught an Anagian pixie mouse, and Guliz looked as though she was contemplating whether or not it was actually possible to be allergic to glass.

They heard Metin approach, saving Sanem from the strange looks they were giving her as he stared at something in the distance across the water, apprehension tensing his shoulders. “Can I borrow your eyes Guliz?”

“One moment.” The medic replied. Before placing all her cards down on the table in a manner that seemed very bad for Muzo, as he let out a mournful whine, his head falling into his hands as if he’d just had the pleasure of winning all of Guliz’s night shifts for the next month. Which, knowing Guliz, he probably had.

Guliz stood, taking the spyglass that was permanently attached to her belt and following where Metin’s was pointing towards the smidge of a silhouette in the distance.

Sanem tried her best to make out what they were looking at but could see nothing more than a faint, dark blob on the horizon that perhaps might have resembled a boat, when she squinted.

"Do we know them?" Metin asked.

"No," Guliz said. "But they're not much of a threat, the ship's pretty small."

"You sure they're not just far away?" Muzo suggested helpfully.

Guliz ignored him, lowering her spyglass. "What do you want us to do?"

“I think it’s about time we put the Mavi flag back up, just in case. But raise a white one too. If they’re heading to the island we don’t want to make any trouble.”

 

* * *

 

They were not the first to arrive. But the smaller ship gave no air of hostility, greeting them with disinterested glances as the Kotu Kral was anchored in the cove bordering the islands one and only town.

Sanem was halfway up the mast line with Guliz to raise the sails when she noticed. What she had assumed to be an ornamental figure on the very pinnacle of the mast of the merchant ship beside them, suddenly turned its head and looked at her.

_Was that...?_

_Was that a monkey?_

Her eyes weren't lying to her, as ridiculous and out of place as it seemed. The long tailed creature sat with disturbingly beady eyes as it returned her gaze, flashing an awkward smile of sharp teeth before letting out a chipped cackle.

Sanem kept climbing.

 

* * *

 

Can emerged from his cabin, nodding to Metin who was already kitted out and ready to head inland, acknowledging his first mate in an attempt to prevent his eyes naturally trying to fall on her before anyone else. It was a habit that would break him the first time she wasn’t there to find.

He glanced up to where the winds were ruffling through the smaller blue-stained canvas above the main sail, adorned with the face of a dragon and the memory of his mother handing it to him along with the rights to the ship years ago.  _A badge of honour_ , she had said. He didn’t fly it very often.

Can blinked sunlight out of his eyes, the brightness heavy after days spent shut in his cabin staring at the swirl of stars within the obstinate glass sphere. His gaze falling back down to the deck, waiting as his crew gathered before he asked for a few volunteers to head inland. None of them seemed to want to leave the warmth of the braziers.

It was a well practised habit, but it had never before left his hands clenching at his sides while he waited for a reply. Waited for the one voice he hoped would stay quiet. Deren shrugged, stepping towards Metin to signal her own enlistment, a silent beat passed, and then another, until the shred of hope in his mind had convinced him that maybe he was wrong.

And then Guliz answered for her.

It wasn't hard to notice the unsubtle nudge of her elbow into Sanem's side, or the more subtle one Sanem gave in retaliation as the medic announced that Sanem would like to join them.

Can just nodded in acknowledgment. His eyes finding Sanem’s for the first time in what felt like far too long, noticing the new adornment of purple over her shoulders and the braid in her hair that had somehow survived the night. She looked beautiful.

He forced his eyes back down to the floorboards again, his heart fraying.

 

* * *

 

The skiff was small. Sanem had known that. But it seemed even smaller now that she’d grown unaccustomed to be so close to him, and had very little to do with the two other bodies than were crowded beside them. Overly aware of how Can’s feet were resting on the bottom of the little boat, his legs only a short distance from her own, watching as his arms worked the oars, trying to pull her roaming gaze from the way the fabric of his shirt moved over the hills and valleys of the muscles there.

Sanem reminded herself to unclench her jaw.

His eyes caught hers, and she was proud to find she’d managed to get her own under control. When he smiled gently. And it made something in her heart skip at the realisation she'd managed to steal a smile from the place he'd been hiding them, before the hope stumbled, seeing the expression wilt on his face before it had the chance to reach his eyes.

 

* * *

 

The leaves had fallen. The ground turned into a tapestry of autumn; gold and amber and late fading greens. She sometimes missed the shades of the earth now that all she had to look at was a never ending blue, but the nostalgia towards the landscape that reminded her so much of home found no place in her heart as she worried it might.

Can finished tying up the boat and let himself watch her for a moment as she looked out at the woodland in the distance. Ignoring the danger of it. As he tried to memorise the portrait of her face against the morning sky like it was the last chance he would ever have. His eyes catching on how the beams of light brought out the reddish tints in her hair, and how it caught on the dark honey of her eyes.

Sanem had been too distracted by the beauty of the island’s colours to realise Can had already finished fixing the skiff to the jetty, and that the others were wasting no time setting off towards the village. Sanem wondered if Deren had left them alone on purpose.

Her hands fidgeted with her shirt sleeves when she noticed him, catching sight of the first sincere smile she’d seen from him in weeks. Until it disappeared like the setting sun as he swallowed it down.

“Sanem,” He began, his voice gentle, tentative, as he stepped towards her slowly. Observing with something that made her chest tight how his eyes were bereaved of the same humoured spark he’d first greeted her with months ago. She missed it. “I have a friend. Akif.” He paused again, as if the words were battling to not be spoken. “His ship’s going to be passing through here in about a weeks time. He’s, uh… He’s going to be heading near Ikara.”

It wasn’t hard to notice the fact Can’s eyes were having trouble meeting her own. “He can take your home. If that’s what you want.”

Sanem blinked, before her face fell into a distressed frown.  _How could he think that?_ “I don’t want to go home.”

He finally looked at her again for more than just a brief moment, skepticism tainting the hazel of his eyes. “You- You don’t?”

“No,” She promised, shaking her head.  _But how could he_ not _think that?_  “I don’t want to go home.”

He paused, deliberating, before he continued.  _She needs to be sure about this._  “There might come a time, Sanem, when going back will no longer be an option.”

Sanem nodded in understanding. Ikaran sovereignty had never been shy in condemning the names and faces of lawless men to be nailed on paper against the noticeboards of courthouses. Words of warning marked underneath. And ‘wanted’ written in thick, black letters by the hands of men who sheltered more sins than the devil himself.

The thought of ever finding her own image on one made her shiver, but it was not entirely though fear, and she was attentive to the fact that the punishment for piratism was death. “I know.”

Her words had seemingly done nothing to convince him, his eyes just turning sadder as he began talking again - some rehearsed spiel about how she might regret the opportunity once it had been stolen from her, how it would be safer for her to leave, to be away from him. How she could still take her drawings to the capital and find her friend. It wasn’t hard to notice the shift to something possessive in his voice when he mentioned Sinan.

Sanem folded her arms, trying not to glare at him as she listened to an argument that he seemed to have been repeating to himself for days.

_Oh, Can, you idiot._

He hadn’t been planning to stop talking mid sentence, but when she suddenly stepped forward, raised herself onto her tiptoes and started kissing him, it became hard not to. Words becoming lost against the gentle insistence of her mouth. Both of her hands weaving desperately into the hair at the back of his neck, letting him know he was being a complete and utter moron.

He took a moment to move. A moment to do anything, before his mind caught up with what she was telling him. One of his arms findings its way around her waist and needfully pulling her tighter against his chest with everything he’d been forcing himself to hold back in preparing to let her walk away. His other hand settling just under the line of her jawbone as his thumb ghosted over the skin of her cheek.

Warmth bloomed in her chest like a flower under the light of the rising sun as she sighed against him. Letting her heels slowly fall back down to the ground. As he steadied her with one hand brushing around to the small of her back, the other tilting her chin, following her movement as he leaned into her.

Until breathing became a problem.

“Can,” She protested gently against his mouth, as he refused to let the moment end. Her hands sliding down his chest and feeling the thumping of his heartbeat under her touch. Nudging him away with all the intention of a breeze trying to push over an oak tree.

He finally let her go. Just a little. His eyes opening to find her breathless and smiling, her own still contentedly shut. Feeling her lean into the palm of his hand against her cheek. Allowing his mind to return to a world renewed with colour, when for weeks he’d been living in hues of grey.

He watched her as her eyes blinked open slowly like the delicate beat of a butterfly’s wing. Before she looked at him. Discovering hazel eyes eclipsed by something dark and primal that for once he didn’t restrain. And that for once she did not hide from.

“I do not want to go home.” She repeated, her eyes clear, decisive. Letting reprimand seep into her voice without allowing it to take over her promise. “I am home. And I am not going to leave. Do you understand that Can Divit?”

He let out a small laugh, and it sounded like relief. “Aye, aye captain.” 

  
  
  



	25. Ikiüous pt.2

**Four years and eight months ago.**

Deren was fighting off a grin when Can and Sanem finally found them. Her face quiet - mostly, but a hint of something smug flickering in her eye that made Sanem wonder if she’d been watching them down at the docks, but she accepted that it was most likely more to do with the fact that Can’s hand was now, unabashed, linked with her own, and that watching probably hadn’t been necessary to figure out what had happened.

She had tried to pull away at first, only gently. Unsure if this was a statement that she was comfortable making in a village full of people who would have known exactly who he was, yet knew nothing about  _her_. It passed her mind, for a moment, wondering how quickly the news would find itself to the ears of Can’s mother, as the villagers caught on the sight of them, now exposed to a world that was not distracted by the bustle of crowds and the excitement of an evening festival.

So she had tried to pull away - but just as gently, he had not let her. Something inside her fluttering at the understanding that his gesture of assurance in a place that was unfamiliar to her was just as much an act of territoriality. He knew what would happen. And he was letting it.

Maybe it should have scared her. Maybe that would have been wise - but she was pretty sure she left the last traces of that behind on a beach on the outskirts of Katiket. Or perhaps even earlier, maybe it had abandoned her the moment she’d snuck into darkness through the doorway of her parent’s house.

How many more reckless decisions did she have left to make, how many pieces of her heart left to turn wild before her parents wouldn’t even recognise her anymore, she wondered?

Metin winked at her as they approached, friendly, discreet, silently noting their connected hands as Deren explained what the two had discovered after briefly asking around town. Apprehensive questions and apprehensive answers from people where were politely trying to hide behind closed doors.

“Huma was here. A little over two weeks ago,” Deren informed them, all affection leached from her face as she set her jaw. “She left a package for us - in the usual place.”

Can nodded. “We better get going then.”

 

* * *

 

The path lead away from the village. Skirting around the borders of the coastland through a field of green and a trail that seemed more accustomed to a pilgrimage of sheep than human feet, as she followed the others further into the wilderness.

Sanem watched the last traces of civilisation fall back behind them, surprised. Before turning back around to find Can waiting to help steady her, though it had been charmingly unnecessary, as she stepped over a stile constructed into a cobblestone wall that seemed more overrun with moss than rock. But it was holding the sheep in, Sanem noted. The legged clouds bleating as they watched the group of humans disappeared into a yellow wood.

Blanketed under a canopy of gold and birdsong. Ribbons of light falling through the branches and touching over patches of brown earth below.

She listened to the singing in the trees, smiling as she recognised the melodies that she had grown up hearing through her bedroom window, paying half a mind to her friend’s idle chatter as they continued along a non-descript and near non-existent path that gradually rose uphill.

Pausing every few miles to wait quietly, as Metin doubled back to make sure they weren't being followed. The leaves helping to mask their tracks as Sanem was all but sure they were getting lost in a never ending woodland.

But she couldn’t stop smiling as they talked.

There was such a simplicity to it.  _This_. Being with these people as they joked and laughed and fell into comfortable silence when words had no need to be said. And it was almost futile, really, to try to convince herself that they hadn’t absolutely, effortlessly, woven a place into her heart that felt something like family. And something that felt like  _more_ , as she felt the warmth of Can’s hand tugging gently on hers, leaning close and pointing with his other free hand towards what was probably a woodpecker by the sounds it was making, but she was too busy looking up at his face to figure out. And she didn’t even want to. Which was a first.

She set herself, as something heated rolled over in the pit of her stomach the moment his eyes met hers, his face too close, as he discovered she was very much not looking at the bird he’d found. Her knees notably less sturdy than they had been a second ago as her mind left her to amble back to their moment on their jetty.

 _She wanted to do that again._  And she found herself having to gulp down the pressure of it, her eyes deserting his before she could figure out what he’d even made of her unexpected reaction. Taking a shaky breath as she innocuously let her hand fall from his and stepped to loop her arm through Deren’s instead.

Her feet felt like they’d been walking for hours before she finally asked, curiosity stinted by the fact she’d been letting herself just enjoy the company. “Where are we actually going?”

“You remember me telling you about the alliance’s personal messaging system?” Deren asked.

“Yeah,”

“Well, Huma was the one that chose the location,” Deren explained. “And she has a habit of being a bit overdramatic.”

“Paranoid, more like,” Metin added dryly from where he was walking ahead. “Which is why it’s in the middle of goddamn nowhere.”

Sanem had noticed Can’s sudden silence a step behind, her eyes falling back to him and finding his own held on the ground as they walked. But the earth wasn’t uneven enough to warrant such diligence, so she gave him a small smile, trying to pull him back to them. Which he returned, but in a reserved manner she’d hardly seen before.

“Why not just leave it with someone in the village?” Sanem asked, regretting slightly that she’d ever steered the conversation towards his mother.

“She wouldn’t trust any of them,” Deren told her. “Which is harsh considering I’m pretty sure the majority would cut out their own tongues if she told them too. And the rest would just save her the hassle and plunge a knife straight into their own hearts. They’re all terrified of her.”

The quiet grew cold. And Sanem didn’t ask anymore questions.

She followed the others as the path dropped lower, shuffling her feet down an embankment bordering the grassy ledge of a river. The sky opening up above them to blue.

She noted, though she didn’t pay it much attention, that the water here was almost white despite the river bed being smooth - calm.

Contemplating instead, a thread of frustration forming in her mind, why they were still sheltering her from whatever abhorrently foul things must have unfolded for one single human being to have the oceans cowering at her feet. For one human being to be that intimidating.

Or, she thought, if they  _were_  being honest, perhaps this was simply a case of rumour feeding rumour. Like how a joke had grown and spread through her village like a weed until everyone was avoiding her and whispering in bewildered astonishment of how she was a witch. Not that she hadn’t stoked that fire.

But Can’s distant eyes seemed to say otherwise. She wanted to hug him, to hold him, but the non-sentimental part of her mind pointed out that it would probably only bring unwanted attention from the two others that were walking alongside them.

He had not hidden it from her. But she didn’t think it was a coincidence they hadn’t noticed.

 

* * *

 

The gentleness of the river turned thunderous as they continued uphill, the sound blaring against her ears. The creek opening to a pool of surging water and large, scattered rocks as the current fell boisterous and loud over the edge of a cliff face.

They continued walking towards it, closer than Sanem would have considered foolish until they were practically underneath. Looking up to find the crest no higher than the lowest of the boom masts on Can’s ship. She might have considered climbing it, if the water hadn’t turned the rock slippery, treacherous.

But when her eyes fell down again she could see no sign of Deren or Metin, and for a second her blood turned cold wondering if her friends warning to push her overboard was about to unfold under different circumstances. But Deren wasn’t there when Sanem spun around either.  _Odd._

Can was waiting for her, some of the humour back in his smile, as he held out a hand. "Do you trust me?"

Sanem was aware she was frowning in unrestrained confusion, but she decided that she did.  _Of course_   _she did._ So she took his hand, lacing her fingers through his for what felt like the hundredth time that day and the very first.

Before he gently pulled her inside.

 

* * *

 

She found her friends again, lead through a slim gap in the curtain of water created by a section of rock face that had been carved away. The floor was damp. Everything was damp, she felt like she was even breathing it in but there was something refreshing about the chill of it, and the way the rumble of water echoed off the walls.

They stood inside a smooth-walled crevice, the light dim, but enough to reveal where Sanem needed to avoid the puddles.

She looked around, and Sanem almost couldn’t believe it, but flowers were blooming. White and delicate, thin green tendrils working their way into the mossy cracks of the rock’s surface where they’d made their home.

“Moonflowers,” Can told her, as he stepped closer to where she was staring at them in amazement. “My mother planted them years ago. She told me she never have much hope for them, but they’ve grown resilient and wild now.”

 _Like you_ , Sanem thought, wondering if she’d mistaken the simmered affection in his voice.

“Sometimes things still manage to flourish in unkind places.” She said. Watching as he stepped towards the wall and drew one of the stems from the stone, though it came away easily. Maybe it would have been a shame if there weren’t so many of them  _everywhere_. Moving back towards her with a quiet purpose as he held the bud in his hand.

And it was innocent. Completely innocent. As he stood close in front of her, the way his hand moved a few loose strands of hair away from her face before he tucked the white of the flower behind her ear, a look in his eyes just as soft as its petals. But she could already feel the red making itself known in her cheeks and her heart drumming in her chest, breathing hitching at the simplest of contact in a way she hoped he would be unable to notice in the low light, as his thumb passed over the line of her jaw tantalizingly slowly before returning to his side. And she thought,  _maybe,_ it hadn’t been so innocent.

And it was unfamiliar - startling, considering she’d been kissing him earlier and hadn’t then felt it so intensely. But she knew it was  _want_  she was feeling. And she was pretty sure her pupils were as dark and wide as midnight. It was unfair, really, when he stepped away, leaving the sense of something unfinished as he joined the other two deeper into the room. While Sanem tried to get her wayward heartbeat under control.

He probably hadn’t even noticed he’d done it, she decided. Swallowing down the realisation that she had probably, most likely, just let herself become far too touch starved in the last few weeks, and that their kiss on the pier had woken with abandon a desire for  _more_.

She joined them, eventually. Finding the others stood around a large wooden chest in the very darkest, backmost part of the cave. She wouldn’t have even noticed it had they not brought it to her attention.

Can fumbled with a key, that he must have dug out of his pockets, before releasing the bulky padlock securing the heavy and partially sodden lid in place.

It was mostly empty, which seemed anticlimactic to Sanem. But Can seemed to find what he was looking for, placed neatly and central at the bottom of the chest. Leaning down and pulling out a rolled letter sealed with wax the colour of blood, and stamped with a sigil that let Can know it had been intended for him specifically.

“We walked all day for that?” Sanem raised an eyebrow, her arms folding.

It was too dark to read. Locking the box back up and stepping back under sunlight, Can made his way to sit against the comfort of a boulder away from the noise of the water, where the pool was still and calm. Scanning the horizon one last time to make sure there were no unwanted observers. Then, he pried the seal off.

Another smaller note fell out of the paper as he unfurled it. Flittering to the floor where Sanem caught it before it could reach the water.

She wasn’t sure if she would be allowed to look at it, but no one protested when she did. Her eyes examining over something that looked like it had been ripped out of an adventurer’s guide. It seemed the less important of the two, notes of some cavern she had never heard of, scribbles of words she recognised as Latin and ramblings that seemed to have been written by the hands of a madman. Sanem frowned.

“What is it?” Deren asked, peering over her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Sanem replied. “Something about.. hell’s door? I think that says?”

She handed it over, but Deren was just glaring at it too.

Can had just been staring at his own letter for a while, until Metin nudged him with his foot to remind him he had inquisitive companions.

“She says -” Can began, faltering. “That she’s travelling north for a few months to the ice lands with a new friend. That we might be needed soon to return a favour, but in the meantime, she says, she hopes that can be of help to us.” He finished, pointing to the smaller paper in Deren’s scrutinising hands.

“Is that all?” Metin asked.

“She left it pretty cryptic,” Can shrugged, defeated. “As per usual.”

Deren and Can swapped letters as Metin peered over his girlfriend’s shoulder, comparing both but coming up empty-handed. “Hey Can,” Deren began, cheeky. “How much do you think someone would pay for her whereabouts?”

Can just let out a small laugh. “I appreciate the sentiment Deren, and as appealing as that sounds. We might, unfortunately, be needing her help soon.”

“But I’m not sure that’s much help at all,” Can said, looking at the smaller letter. “I can’t understand half of what’s on here.”

“I can,” They all turned to face Sanem, as she began to shuffle under the weight of their inspection, shrugging. “It’s in Latin. I can probably figure it out given a bit of time.”

Can let out a smile. Something that felt like astonished pride spreading over his face and lighting up his eyes at the realisation that he was somehow  _still_  allowing himself to underestimate her.

“Okay then,” He accepted, glancing up at the sky, realising the sun would not permit them many more hours of daylight. “We better be heading back.”

 

* * *

 

Twilight had fallen when they returned to the ship. Laces of pink sunlight reaching through the scattered clouds onto a sea painted a blushing rose.

The village had turned languid as they passed through, the sheep settling down under the partial cover of barren oak trees and their humans settling into cottages glowing with the flicker of hearth flame. It looked cosy. But somehow their ship seemed more inviting.

The merchant’s vessel was still docked, looking like a pitiful tabby cat next to the bulk of a docile leopard, as it rested on the water alongside the Kral.

Climbing back up a ladder that had once troubled Sanem for being too wobbly, but that was now the easiest thing in the world. Smiling at the new tone in her arms. As she helped hoist the row boat back into position with yards of rope.

Some of the crew were sleeping, most were surrounding the braziers, each half a bottle deep into whatever they’d managed to haggle for at the dockside, and Guliz - sat  _thwunking_  arrows into the wooden planks of the cabin wall. Can scowled when he noticed. Though in truth the medic hadn’t been trying hard enough to cause any major damage, and the look he gave her was more amused than firm, as Guliz mumbled an apology.

The four of them headed up to the command deck, finding Gypsy taking advantage of the last opportunity to sun lounge on the table to the left to the helm, her head resting lazy and happy against the brim of Can's captain hat that had been left there. He didn't tend to wear it very often.

She purred as Sanem said hello, before Can sprawled the letters over the free space of the table, three of the four of them stepping back, overwhelmed and befuddled.

As Sanem became lost in it. Her eyes moving reverently over the smaller note, arms leaning against the table like she was working out the threads of a puzzle, muttering and rambling in a language he didn’t understand.

Can smiled. Content and trusting to let her concinnate its meaning as he readied his crew and the ship to leave - the locals didn’t seem all too happy to be hosting, and the merchant vessel was making him uneasy, though he wasn’t sure why. Deliberating - slightly troubled by the idea, if he was becoming as paranoid as his mother.

He had to confiscate Guliz’s arrows as he passed by, witnessing her stuffing one into the remnants of Muzo’s glass bottle of-definitely-something-alcoholic before attempting to set it alight over the lip of the brazier. Rolling his eyes as she grumbled.

 

* * *

 

 _It’s a mess_ , Sanem scowled - as if it’d been written by a rushing hand. It was hard enough having to work with a language she only partially knew, but the handwriting was doing nothing to aid her. One sentence written over and over again as if in worship - it must have been important, so she worked on that first. But ‘the blood of two sons’ meant nothing to her and she was certain she’d gotten something wrong. Though the more she looked it over the surer she was of the translation she had offered Deren earlier, and that whatever it was discussing didn’t seem all that jolly.

Something thudded down on the desk beside her, which she was content to ignore until Gypsy shot to her feet in the corner of her eye, her back ruffled, hissing out a deranged yowl.

Sanem’s heart thumped, heavy and loud, as she looked up to find the shape of a monkey sitting on the desk to her left.  _Oh._

Sanem stood speechless for a moment. The creature looking at her with big, endearing eyes that made her feel guilty for ever not finding it cute. Something in the back of her mind semi-confidently whispering ‘squirrel monkey’ as she took it its rusty coloured legs and the white of its face against the warm, kind brown of its eyes.

“Hello,” She breathed. Reaching out a hand in its direction, careful, inviting, in the same way she’d first greeted Gypsy what felt like a lifetime ago.

It’s head tilted, ears flickering in attention, and she couldn’t help but notice it was adorable, its blinking eyes undeniably charming. Though her cat didn’t seem to agree. And had already disappeared to find Can.

It stepped closer. Moving on gangly legs, cautiously towards her as Sanem smiled in disbelief.  _Where have you come from?_ She wondered _, you seem an awfully long way from home._ Though it had become unfortunately apparent to her that pirates had a fancy for keeping exotic pets, the thought just made her smile turn sad, sober.

And then her smile dropped entirely. As she watched in simmering horror as it’s arm lunged towards the letters, grabbing at both of them before she could even  _think_  to stop it, before it darted away and began scampering up the rigging like a bolt of lighting.

 _Uh_ …

_Had they just been pirated by a monkey?_

Deren screamed, and Sanem was aware after a few bewildered moments that it had sounded like her name, but there was no blame in her shriek as Deren witnessed what had just happened. The rest of the crew glancing up at the sudden outburst and following the two women’s startled line of sight to the creature that was merrily making its way along the lowest of the ships sail booms.  _You cheeky bastard._

They all watched as it moved nimbly across rope and wooden beams, the paper captive and crumpled in its hand, as it headed straight in the direction of their neighbour’s sail lines. And Sanem realised that this was remarkably, unequivocally,  _not good._

Climbing after it would take far too long, she guessed they had less than ten seconds before it departed from their ship towards its own and all hell broke loose.  _Shit._

_Shit!_

Her eyes found Can, looking just as astonished and frozen footed as the rest of them. Guliz staring gobsmacked, her jaw hanging open as the last of the arrows she’d somehow managed to smuggle out of sight of Can burst into flames against the fire while her eyes were distracted elsewhere.

“Guliz-” Sanem whispered, a potentially stupid idea forming in her mind. The name falling from her mouth again. This time shouted. “Shoot it!”

It was a heartbeat later that Sanem realised she probably should have specified the paper and not the monkey. But Guliz seemed to pick up on that. Taking a beat, before jolting to her feet with fumbling hands as she notched the arrow - still burning.

Butterflies turned to lead in Sanem’s stomach. Watching the monkey leap into open air, landing, swinging, on a loose rope hanging from the mast of the smaller ship.

As Guliz let loose.

Sanem prayed, holding her breath, that the flames wouldn’t die out, that the monkey wouldn’t spook.

But Guliz was rarely off mark. And the little thing squealed as the arrow impaled paper, tearing it out of his grasp as it set aflame, lodging itself into the wooden beams of the mast behind, the little thief dropped the scorching remnants that had ripped in his hands a few moments later. Turning back toward Sanem with a glare that could only describe as outrage.

 

* * *

 

Understandably, they wasted no time fleeing. Though Can felt no need to chase them.

As he turned to find the sight of Sanem at his helm. Momentarily distracted as she stood there, equally radiant and stunned.

He was aware she’d started talking but his mind hadn’t been paying attention. Until eventually he made the decision to join her, realising the words she was speaking were an apology.

“I’m sorry,” She fretted. “I should have been paying better attention, I should have been more careful,” But she was taken aback, for a second, to realise that it was a smile on his face, not a frown, as he rushed up the stairs towards her.

“Sanem,” He objected, almost laughing, tender, as he took her face between his hands. “Stop it, are you kidding? That wasn’t your fault, you were incredible.”

“I didn’t do anything,” She frowned.

“That was a lot more than nothing, Sanem.” He said, and there was really no contending the tone of his voice.

And maybe it was true, as she turned to find the rest of the crew beaming, a few of them letting out short cheers, whoops, watching as Guliz became drowned in celebratory hugs. But it was Sanem they were mostly looking at.

She let out a short laugh of astonishment, feeling Can’s hands move away as she conceded. Turning to Deren who nodded in support - the look in her friend’s eye’s heartening.

And then she felt Can return to her, walking slowly, his hat now twirling in one hand.

“So,” He began, his tone playfull. “Where to, captain?” Placing it, unexpected, on top of her head - despite the fact it was the tiniest bit too large, smiling fondly at her as it slipped slightly. Sanem might have mistaken it for teasing if he wasn’t very,  _very,_  much looking like he wanted to kiss her.

So she let him. And the cheering from the deck below began again with complete disregard for how  _loud_  they were being.

 

* * *

 

It was dark as she made her way across the ship, hours later. After the jubilation had died down and almost everyone had disappeared to bed.

Her feet padding under the shimmer of starlight across wooden floorboards that she hoped would not betray her presence, standing outside the cabins as her breath caught, cold against the night air.

Ignoring the shaking in her hands and the skip of her heartbeat, as she paused, just for a moment. Because she'd realised,  _she wants this, she wants_. And the feeling had become almost too strong to ignore. But there was a part of herself that was still fighting, a part she'd only ever been raised to repress. Searching for the flicker of it deep within herself and letting it turn her blood hot and her heartbeat heavy in her chest. Finding the last piece that had yet to turn wild.

Before she opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is still reading on here can I ask that you leave a comment, even just a short one? It's been pretty lonely recently both through here and on wattpad, and I could really use the support. Thank you


	26. Dawn Belongs To Lovers And Bakers

**Four years and eight months ago.**

The flicker of candlelight greeted her as she pushed noiselessly into the room. Her heart beating into her throat.

Can was turned away from her, knelt in front of his desk, undisturbed, as he studied the glow of blue shimmering from crystal glass. Sanem stood for a moment, watching. As he let the key spin in place over the wooden surface with a speed that was more whimsical than investigative.

Gypsy noticed her presence first, and Sanem found herself halfheartedly frowning at the betrayal of it as she watched the tortoiseshell jump down from his bed, the reticent sound of her feet against the wooden floorboards before she butted the shin of Sanem’s leg - as if in encouragement. And slipped out the door.

Sanem let it creak as she closed it behind her, holding her breath.

It was not nerves making her hands shake.

Can blinked as he noticed her. Light from the flame catching over the cinnamon of his eyes as he smiled, warm, welcoming, and Sanem melted a little.

It was not  _late,_  late, - not so much that he would be feeling any need to decipher her sudden appearance. Sanem wasn’t sure if that impediment was going to make this easier or harder.

He stood as she walked towards him, her arms finding a home weaved into one another in an effort to subdue their slight trembling. Watching as he placed the orb back into the balance of a heavy set, silver cuff-band where it had been living to stop it from rolling away rebelliously.

“Any luck?” She asked, finding herself close behind him in a way that had begun to feel natural, instinctive. Noticing, as her eyes glanced upwards, that his broken window had been temporarily appeased by the fixing of a slab of wood over the ragged scar. It wasn’t very attractive. But it was stopping the draft.

“None,” He sighed, a taste of defeat in his voice as he turned to face her, the back of his legs resting against the table, easy, relaxed.

Sanem took the opportunity to pull the paper out of where she’d stuffed it into her pocket - ripped out of the final page of her sketchbook that had left it jagged-edged and crinkled. Flattening it out in her hands.

“I thought you might want this,” She said, handing him the replica of his mother’s handwriting. “In case you need to read it again.”

It was a diversion, really, something to divert the blame of her presence in his bedroom should she decide that the thumping of her heartbeat was becoming too much.

He stared at it for a moment in her offered hand, forehead creasing.

“How did you-” He wondered slowly, before he shook his head, a fond smile lighting up his face. “Nevermind.”

She handed it over, almost feeling bashful, before unknotting the second. She’d recalled the first without fault. But this one was riddled with missing pieces and white space where the unfamiliar words had turned fuzzy in her head, like trying to see the trees from the forest when surrounded by thick fog.

It joined the other in his hand as she passed it over.

“I’m sorry that it’s not going to be very helpful. I don’t think I understood any of the important parts.”

“You don’t have to apologise, Sanem,” He said, assertive but gentle. “If you weren’t here I’m pretty sure today would have ended up much worse. And anyway, my mother seemed to have worked out enough to think this was somehow linked to the key - so we’ll just have to ask next time we see her.”

His expression didn’t seem very pleased with that idea though.

“She knows about it?” Sanem asked after a beat. “The key?”

“Yeah,” Can admitted, placing the notes down on the table beside him before pinning them down with a rock that had at some point been promoted to a paperweight. “She kinda helped me find it.”

He shifted his weight against the table, his gaze turning distant, troubled.

 _And she thought_ her _family was a mess._

“I’m sorry about what happened to your uncle.” She said, her voice soothing, aware this conversation had deserved to be had weeks ago - the words had been suffering in her heart ever since.

“I’m sorry about scaring you.” He returned, just as lightly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Her eyes fell to his lips as he started talking, but even after he’d gone quiet again she was having trouble finding it within herself to look back up. She swallowed, the feeling heavy in her throat. Aware she’d done very little to disguise the gesture, and that her pupils were probably turning impossibly dark. And maybe she was tilting forward, just slightly - but she disregarded it as unconscious as she forced herself to still.

“Sanem-” He said tentatively after waiting for a moment, a question, a plea, as he looked at her with the softest eyes she’d ever seen. And now she  _was_  looking. Because she was hoping he would be able to read on her face what she didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

And he was so close. A step away. Less. His lips already level with her’s so she wouldn’t even have to reach up onto her toes, and she was well aware how she had all the space in the room to move, while he was voluntarily sat with his back against something solid and hard - almost trapped. But trusting.

But the expression on his face was entirely sinless, and that was not at all what she’d been hoping for.

This time, there was nothing slow about it when she kissed him. His body frozen for the few heartbeats it took to get over the boldness of it, unblushing and brazen - the arms around his neck defiant to all the delicacies he’d created alongside the image of her in his own head.

He broke out of it as he felt her confidence waning. Her hands slipping as her whole body seemed to withdraw from him in a moment that felt far too unassured to simply be a need for air. And he had to remind himself that he was far more experienced with this than she was.

So he told her not to pull away, hands sliding over the dip just above her hip bones before ghosting around to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him in a way that had her whole body curving against his.

And then he groaned against her mouth, the sound unholy and primal and enough to make her knees go weak as she let out an involuntary, needy whine in reply. Her beaming smile making it difficult to keep kissing him but easier to breathe as her hands clutched at his shirt as though taking it  _off_  was the most important thing in the world.

He wasn’t sure at what point he’d risen to his feet, but he stilled as he felt her pulling the fabric up in an attempt to remove it. “Sanem, are you sure-”

“Shut up,” She commanded, pulling it over his head after his arms finally complied with the ministrations. Trying not to let laughter consume them as it became tangled around his head, her arms were not quite long enough, and he’d always been immorally taller than she was.

But it fell to the floor eventually. And for a moment Sanem just stood stunned, because  _holy shit_ , she’d seen his bare chest before on the rare moments he chose to spar without a shirt on, but never in such proximity; never close enough to touch, to feel under her palms, to taste. The miles of tanned, lean muscle were almost hypnotizing, and she had to make a note to herself to tell her jaw to behave.

And suddenly the semblance of control she’d thought she’d just found for herself shattered under the realisation that maybe she was in way over her head.

His mouth found hers, sensing her stalling as he kissed away the bewilderment on her face, slow and undemanding. Making his way across her jawbone and down to the bridge of her neck as she exposed it to him, and the only logic that made itself known in her mind was ' _fuck it'._

“Do you want to stop?” His words low and rumbling.

She wasted no time contemplating an answer, though it came out far more breathless and vehement than she had intended. “No,”

She felt a soft laugh fall against her neck before he spoke again, his beard brushing over her skin as she noticed the slight crack in the coarseness of his voice. “Turn around.”

Her eyes shot wide at the assertiveness of it, melting darker as her mouth contemplated a response, but words were evading her, so she just found herself complying. Paying keen attention to the warmth of his chest against her back, and the way his hands grazed around her hips as she pivoted in a slow circle. Cursing the fact her bodice prevented the sanctity of his touch making it's way through to her skin. But it was still enough to make her shiver.

His hands began working deftly up the back of her spine. Tugging almost roughly at the lace trails and lattice work holding together the leather surrounding her middle, the sensation sending liquid heat straight to the space between her legs. The palms of his hands trespassing into the gap once he’d released it, brushing over her waist now covered with little more than the defenselessness of a linen shirt. As Sanem took note, her head spinning slightly, of the fact his hands were large enough that the tips of his fingers were splayed over her stomach and almost reaching her belly button. Sighing as his mouth worshiped the skin of her shoulder, brushing her hair to one side as he moved up her neck.

Sanem let the corset finally wriggle to the floor, almost missing the support of it as the strength in her body abandoned her, feeling the bluntness of his nails digging into the crease of her hip bones as he turned her back around to face him.

His eyes were intense when she found them. A fire burning his hazel to black as he watched and waited, making sure she was still okay with this. Before his hands rose back to her cheeks, the v of his thumbs holding just under her ears as he closed his eyes and pressed a kiss against her forehead, slow and anchoring. Something breaking open in the crevice of her heart she’d been keeping just for him as he did it, like the feeling of a hundred birds taking flight all at once. The impact of it almost overwhelming.

She found refuge in laying her hands against his chest, aware of the heartbeat under her palms that was almost as wild as her own.

She let herself lean into him, her eyes closing, her breathing hitched. Feeling his temple press against hers as he finished, placated, but not ready to discard the closeness between them.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice soft as velvet. It didn’t even surprise her how easily he could switch between something caveman-like to exceedingly gentle.

Sanem hummed in agreement, as the one lucid part buried deep in her mind reminded her that there was a bed in this room somewhere, and that they would probably be needing it.

Her eyes flickered open, almost laughing at the realisations that they’d already taken several unconscious steps in it’s direction. Taking his hand with linked fingers and unceremoniously leading him the distance that remained to the edge of the mattress, spinning back around.

It wasn’t entirely her decision to sit so suddenly. But when he’d stepped up close in front of her and pinched his teeth into the space directly below the edge of her jaw bone, her knees had begun trembling so imperiously that she hadn’t had a choice. And the damn things had given out on her, her energy diverted into a short, strangled moan.

He caught her as she fell, descending with her but more controlled, her back sinking into the comfort of blankets and the down of duck feathers.

Attentive to the fact her response hadn’t been fully consensual, he waited, hovering above her on strong arms as his hands dipped into the mattress at either side of her head. Watching her chest rise and fall - ragged and terse. Hands hesitant. Her mouth slightly parted as though there was something she wanted to say, though she didn’t seem able to find it. Looking miraculously beautiful.

And then her eyes flickered down to his torso, watching as she frowned in a way that turned his chest to concern for the heartbeats before he felt the tips of her fingers tracing over the constellation of scars she’d found there, illuminated by the lantern light next to the frame of his bed.

She noted as she examined him, every firm muscle and pink mark, the realisation making her chest thump - how large his body was. How completely he surrounded her. And how easy it would be for him to hurt her, if he wanted to. Becoming aware that she'd gotten so caught up and lost in their movements she hadn't really had any time to rationalise the fact she'd never actually done this before and it was, more likely than not, going to be uncomfortable for her.

“Do we need to stop?”

It was a simple question. But he’d filled it with such honest tenderness that it made her smile, almost foolishly bright, as she found comfort and an answer in the existence of the way he’d said it.

“Absolutely not,” She told him. And told him again by letting her hands become lost in the brown at the back of his neck, pulling him down towards her mouth. Gasping against the kiss as she felt the confined weight of his body press down into hers. “Though I do believe, Can Divit, that we are in the middle of a tragedy.”

He narrowed his eyes at her playful expression, waiting.

“We’re both still wearing far too many clothes.” She explained.

He laughed at that, burying the sound against her neck, before moving away to rectify the situation. Her hands moving almost of their own accord to the buckles of his belt, fumbling with the cold metal before he shimmied out of his breeches, disposing them brazenly to the floor before he returned to her. His arm looping behind her back, shifting the weight of her body so that her head was resting against the feathered pillows, but he’d done it with such undeniable ease that for a few moments she was left speechless, trying to make sense of the fierce throbbing it had sent to the place deep within her hips. Only coming back to life when she realised he’d relocated himself part way down the bed. His fingers drumming over the curve of her hip, his mouth pressed over the caramel skin of her abdomen, exposed from her shirt bunching up just below her ribs.

Asking, waiting.

Sanem let out a noise that was supposed to be agreement but that turned into something unrecognisable and needy, as she lifted her hips of the bed and allowed him to tug off the clothing that was in his way.

She’d let herself float in the sea when they’d been further south and the days had been longer, the water warm around her, and the sun streaming against her face - and it kind of felt like that, as he pressed his mouth against the inside of her knee. Slow and languid. His tongue leaving wet marks as he traveled upwards, tasting, testing. The anticipation sending heat boiling through her veins as he progressed - before he moved to the other leg, and she almost growled in frustration.

The sound morphed to a short cry as he bit her. His teeth sinking into the skin of her thigh, already forming a pretty shade of purple as he watched. Listening to her frayed breathing as he pressed a kiss of apology over the bruise-painted skin.

But she forgot all about it when he finally kissed her where she needed it. His tongue assertive as his grip pressed into the flesh at the underside of her knee, pushing her legs open. He groaned against her clit, the sound animalistic as it sent vibrations from the cavern of his chest straight into the bundle of nerves with such an intensity that it became impossible for her not to writhe underneath him, keening.

Her hands braced against the headboard like an anchor. And she realised that yes, she was, remarkably and exceptionally in way over her head. But  _fuck_  if that didn’t feel good.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, it seemed to have lost all meaning as her chest beat a duet with the sound of her ragged lungs, blood rushing hot through her veins. Moans catching on every breath.

A rose was unfurling deep within her pelvis. Petals dancing in her insides in a way that was not gentle at all - the tug of it strong and demanding. And almost too much. But it wasn’t new, just different, as one of her hands became tangled in the sheets beside her head, and the other into the waves of his hair.

He noticed immediately when she went quiet, only for a beat, like the recession of the tide before the crash of a wave. His movements turning delicate the second she let out a broken whine that was somehow both exceedingly unholy and the most angelic thing he’d ever heard. Smiling as he pressed his lips back into her thigh, nipping at the skin more gently this time. Moving up to confide his mouth against her navel, her hip bone, and the summit of her ribcage. Waiting for her breathing to even and her head to return to him from the clouds she was visiting.

Her eyes finally caught his, gentle as a puppy’s but dark as a lion’s. Balancing his weight on one arm as he watched her.

She gave him a blissed smile, almost giddy, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “Hi,”

“Hi,” He returned, matching her expression. “You okay?”

“Mmhm,” She nodded, breathless. Her eyes falling shut again contently as he observed her.

“Have you ever done that before?” He asked - the question careful, curious, but not at all convictive. Though she was not looking to see if any jealousy had sparked in his eyes.

“Yes,” She replied simply, letting her eyes flutter open to recognise the way his jaw had set tight, and she couldn’t help but find it amusing.

“You’ve been with a man before?”

“I never said that.” She shook her head pointedly, playing with the frown that was forming over his eyebrows and the way his voice had dropped multiple octaves. Possessive. “I have hands, do I not?”

“Oh...” His voice turned deep, his pupils blown wide in a manner that made her heart thump in warning of danger, but she was too far surrendered to him for her mind to pay any attention.

His mouth was harsh, hard, against hers as he groaned. Something five steps away from callous, making her squeak as he surrounded her with the press of his weight once again. But she’d turned into a ragdoll minutes ago, so she let herself soften underneath him - trusting. Allowing him to burn out whatever kindling had sparked the outburst before he slowed again.

His nose fell into the crook of her neck, breathing her in as her eyes slipped shut.

“Sanem,” He murmured against her skin.

“Yeah,”

“Do I need to stop?” His eyes found hers, to make sure she wouldn’t lie to him, his voice cracking and stormy like thunder. “Because if we go any further, I’m going to have a very,  _very_  hard time holding myself back.”

And maybe it was irrational considering the pitch black that had taken over the brown of his eyes. But she stared straight back at him, and whispered practically against his mouth. “Then don’t.”

The growl in his chest set her skin on fire. His body crushing against hers as he hooked an arm behind her, suddenly moving them in a motion that had her hands clutching round his neck for balance, as he positioned her above him in the sturdiness of his lap, scooting himself so that his back was pressed against the cushions of the headboard.

But now she could feel him hard between her legs, and she had to hold back a choked moan.

And then he did something she hadn't expected. He kissed her on the nose. Watching as her face twitched like a rabbit's in surprise and her eyes softened, before they rolled fondly in their sockets a moment later. 'Mr I'm not going to be able to hold back' indeed. But then she wondered, his mouth trailing distractingly along the collar bone peeking out of her shirt, if he'd simply done it to diffuse the wild electricity burning with abandon through his veins.

He didn’t ask permission when he decided to pull the material over her head, which perhaps proved her trail of thought, as he freed the sacred ground of the skin he'd desperately wanted to enclose the warmth of his mouth around. And then he did. And she had no chance trying to hold back the sound the sensation created at the back of her throat, because this  _was_  new, and it was nothing short of celestial.

“You’re in control, okay?” He said, his voice guttural and yet at the same time like honey - though in all honesty her head had been so far up in the clouds that she’d had trouble paying attention. But she nodded, understanding the meaning as his arms circled her waist and he nuzzled his nose into the side of her neck, back to the same spot that had turned her legs useless. Finding his eyes overcast but controlled as he looked at her.

There was a sting to it, an ache, as the pressure of sinking down onto him forced her walls to open up.

She cursed, not entirely sure what had incited the word. Pausing, her nails digging into his shoulders as she tried to catch her breath. Her whole body thruming as his unchecked groan rumbled against the skin underneath her jawline, his hands turning bruising, almost painful, around her hips.

His thumbs brushed over the abused skin as he whispered an apology.

"You don't have to apologise, Can Divit." She reshuffled to look at him, something delicately cheeky in her eyes, enjoying watching his eyes roll into the back of his head, both of them overwhelmed, as she slowly sunk down onto the rest of him.

She settled for a few minutes. Adjusting to the unfamiliarity of it and the head dizzying stretch of him inside her. As he let himself taste her. The kissed-red of her mouth, the crevice of her jawbone, and more delicately, and that had her eyes turning stary - his kiss venturing over the vulnerability of the pulsepoint of her wrist as he held it in feather light but firm hands against his mouth.

A sigh escaped her.

She was unsure as she began to move. The rocking feeling almost clumsy and unpractised as her arms steadied her around his neck, but the worry of inexperience didn’t reach far through her veins before she snuffed it out, noticing the way his arms tightened around her, pulling her impossibly close and flush against his chest as his breathing deepened. Tingling taking over her skin.

Sanem smiled, pressing a slow kiss over his temple.

The rest of the world seemed to melt away into a puddle of insignificance as burning and consuming desire grew like a sapling inside of her.

He seemed to sense it immediately. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know,” It came out breathy - nearly a whine, and maybe it should have been embarrassing but she was feeling remarkably confident with him right now. “More.”

In a heartbeat, she found her back sinking down into the bedding again as he rolled them, her hair falling in brown waves against the cotton of the pillows. Almost whimpering from the ache of him missing.

Opening her legs up instinctively as he settled his weight back into the cradle of her hips, and her hands found home digging into the unfairly toned flesh of his lower back.

She waited impatiently. His fingers dancing a trail up her leg as his mouth hovered a frustrating inch over hers. His touch rivaling the gentleness of a summer breeze as his hand ran up the back of her calf, turning rough as his palm meet the soft skin on the back of her knee, before pulling slowly - hooking it around his hip, then working his fingers distractingly slowly up over the trembling flesh of her thigh. His hand splayed out so that his thumb teased up the inside of her leg in a way that nearly made her forget that the rest of his fingers even existed as they travelled more innocently over the less agonisingly sensitive part of the muscle. And it shouldn’t have been so disarming, really, considering everything they’d done already under the glow of the candle light. Yet it still turned her insides hot and her cheeks radiant.

Before he joined their bodies together entirely. A groan thundering through his chest that mirrored her own desperate sound as he moved, because he had felt alive before but never like _this._

And it was so much  _more_  than anything else she’d ever allowed herself to experience; finally sinking into deep water after only ever venturing through shallow tides. The heat of his bare skin against her own, clammy and warm. The gentle, cautious, rocking of his hips against hers. The careful weight of his body pushing her down into the mattress as his mouth left pink marks along her neck and pinker marks along her lips. The stretch, and the catch of veins as he moved inside her - leaving her legs trembling and restless around him.

He was  _everywhere,_  in a way her hands could never be. The sensations coalescing into something that was almost overwhelming yet at the same time entirely  _not enough_. Sparks of electricity forming over every inch of skin that he touched - a fire burning that was both sated and flamed by the movements of his wandering hands. All pulsing down to that space deep within her centre.

Everything about his movements just made her feel loved, every touch, every kiss, every grip over the curve of her hips - gentle and careful in way that made her melt.

And then just feeling  _wanted_  whenever he forgot himself. When his hands turned rougher, his nails sharp, his teeth leaving bruises against her skin, blue as the water and red as her pounding heart. Needy, desperate noises dissenting the misty-breathed coldness of the air around them.

She couldn’t help it. She wasn’t even sure what made her say it when she’d scarcely even been brave enough to admit it to herself. But when she found her back arching involuntarily off the bed and her toes curling without command as he whispered beautiful things against her ear, the admission just fell straight from her chest and the mindlessness of delirium as she came apart.

“I love you." The words rebellious and mortifying, and she definitely hadn't meant to say that out loud.

He watched as she froze, her hand moving to shield her already closed eyes in embarrassment, groaning gently.

Can laughed, a soft sound, as he tried to pry her hands away, whispering her name - his voice deep, husky. Happy.

She gave in only partially, peeking through a gap between her fingers, letting her hand fall away fully when she noticed the extraordinarily warm look in his eyes. And he hadn't even needed to repeat it back because it was written all over his face like the devotion of scripture.

But he did anyway. A hundred times, his mouth leaving a promise between the valley of her breasts,  _I love you_. Long and slow over her heart, _I love you._ Needy, desperate, as he met her mouth again until she was moaning, _I love you._

And there was really no contending it.

 

* * *

 

She wasn't sure when it had started raining, though she became aware of the sound as she woke. Gentle patters against the outside of the ship.

But his bed was warm, his body a furnace beside her.

Can wasn’t sure how much of the morning he had already wasted just watching her sleep, her face peaceful and quiet. But he was perfectly content to keep wasting. So he made no move to rouse her.

He noted immediately the change in her breathing, they way the muffled noise fell from her chest that was remarkably similar to Gypsy’s chirped grumbling whenever the cat was disturbed from sleep.

He smiled as her eyes blinked open, bleary and stubborn and beautifully dishevelled. She sighed, sleepy, before her nose buried itself naturally into the crook of his neck. The neck of  _her_  Can Divit, who had more in common with a rugged barbarian than a gentleman, but who had been so gentle with her nonetheless.

“Good morning,”

She made a half-awake sound in reply, before she spoke, her voice drowsy. “I can see why Gypsy likes it here. It’s so much more comfortable than those goddamn hammocks.”

He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing through her hair, tucking loose strands behind her ear as she hummed, serene and content.

“To be fair,” He began in a tone that matched the hush of the morning, as he smiled. “Deren probably gave you the worst of what was available when you first arrived.”

Sanem made an indignant sound, before turning quiet.

“I’d like to stay here now, though. With you” She confessed, her eyes finding his, and it surprised him that she even had any bashfulness left. “If you don’t mind.”

And then he tilted her chin to kiss her. Because he didn’t mind. Endlessly and completely, he didn’t mind  _at all_.

 


	27. A Song of Swords

_ If the ocean could speak, what stories would they tell of me? Would you greet the sound of the waves, sit and listen to tales of feathers held skyward by what I had once considered sins? _

_ Would the waters deceive, in an act of kindness?  _

_ As I have.  _

_ Would they dazzle with diamond cast skies, shield you from the truth of red-stained waters and red-stained screams?  _

_ Or would you listen with a heart burned to ice - a dark image poisoning the colour you had created in your own mind. _

_ I wish I could tell you they were lies.  _

 

* * *

 

Reassurance disappeared with the sunlight under the shadow of a mountain of sails, as the tug of cavern water finally allowed them to leave. The Albatross greeting the two ships as they sat flaunted under the banners and colours of rivals - its own mast splintered and dishevelled, its hull bruised.  _ My poor ship.  _ Sanem held back a whine as it began emanating from the back of her throat. 

“Uh, what do we do?” It was Guliz that asked the question, the nervousness in her voice no lie. 

_ What  _ do _ we do? _

Sanem’s mind was reeling,  _ what sort of devil’s card’s luck was this? _ T _ his wasn’t fair. This was profoundly and extraordinarily. Not. Fair.  _

But life never had been. 

“We can fight them.” Can suggested, and it was brave, audacious maybe, considering how bedraggled her ship was right now and how small it looked in comparison to those that were literally looming in front of the sun. It was setting, Sanem noted, the glow low and pink on the horizon.

“The ship might be damaged but the cannons will still work,” He continued, and she might have felt the need to bark at him over his attempts to command  _ her _ ship but considering how she was standing almost stupefied, she would permit it. For now. And maybe he had a point, the guns were functional, and her crew plus Can’s was almost twice the fighting force she was used to - but a disunited army could not sting as it should, with two voices to command them they’d be scattered like a school of fish away from the teeth of a Mako. And, there was also the fact, Sanem noted, that even with both crews, they really had no business trying to take on the force of a navy vessel. 

This was not going to go... very well. 

“Have you ever considered, Can Divit, that maybe immediately rushing to blow shit up isn’t always the best course of action?” She was frustrated, she acknowledged it likely wasn’t fair to be glaring at him. He was  _ trying _ to help. And the emotion fizzled out in her veins a few heartbeats later, taken aback by the way he appeared to have been genuinely stung by the comment. 

She brushed it off, catching sight of Ceycey before she rushed towards him. 

“Hide this, hide it well, and then hide yourself,” She insisted, hurriedly passing him the weight of the satchel over her shoulder, taking note of Ayhan stood to the left and a step behind her brother, looking white-eyed. “And take her with you.”

Ceycey nodded, catching the younger girl’s trembling hand and quickly leading her down into the depths of the cargo hold.

“What’s the plan?” Deren asked. 

It was a shitty one, Sanem accepted, as she headed towards the bow of her ship. But her hand was running low of cards to play, and Sanem almost grimaced as she answered. “We talk.”  

 

* * *

 

The valuables, naturally, safely hidden, and the majority of her crew standing to attention behind, Sanem stood hoping her thumping heart wasn’t audible as she watched Fabri and Yigit board her ship. 

_ Smug bastards. Hell throws a tea party and all the demons show up. _ But she couldn’t help mirroring the sentiment at closer inspection of their own ships - they’d patched them up, but the scars were still showing. 

Deren stood to her left, Guliz to her right, Can somewhere besides but she’d been trying not to pay attention to his blunt disregard for formation. 

Yigit didn’t waste any time. He stepped towards her, almost comically angry, as Fabri followed more leisurely behind. A small guard trailed, but most stayed leering from the decks of the two significantly larger ships. “Whatever fortune you found down there belongs to me, Sanem,” She wondered how big the fairytales had grown in his head, or truly how much they would have discovered below the earth had they been granted the time. It was a shame, really. “Surrender what you’ve found and maybe you’ll get to keep your neck intact.”

_ How kind Yigit, but I really do think you need to work on the cliches.  _

“It truly is wonderful to see you again Yigit, but this bitterness hardly seems justified,” Sanem folded her arms. “Did that tavern wench never teach you to share? Oh, I’m sorry, I believe you referred to her as mother.” 

Yigit stepped forward, furious, pausing a step away from her face as Deren tugged on the hilt of her sword. The metallic ringing an adept warning. Sure, they couldn’t kill  _ all  _ of them in a fight, but Yigit was as mortal as the rest.

She wasn’t really sure what this tactic was, antagonising hadn’t been the plan but irritation was running her mouth. “You know, it seems ironic to me that only a few weeks ago you were asking for my hand, and now you seem content with taking my head instead,”

“He did what?” Can asked from behind, hushed, yet almost hissing. Sanem ignored him.

“And it’s such a shame,” Sanem feigned a sigh. “We’d been having such a pleasant evening-” 

The red-haired captain scoffed, ire making his chest puff up. “That  _ pleasant  _ evening left me with a ruined ship and half my crew dead!” 

“I do believe, Yigit, that happened the morning  _ after _ .” She was sure she heard Can make a sound miraculously like a growl then, her eyes rolling at the territoriality of it. “And since when have you become so concerned over the lives of your men? How many did you send fumbling unguided into the bloodied entrails of that goddamned cavern? Ten? Twenty?”

“It’s not about them!” He shouted,  _ was that smoke coming out of his ears? _ He forcibly poised himself a moment later, as Sanem debated the sanity of poking at him like this. It was giving them time at least. But Fabri just standing there was unsettling her, leaning casually against the taffrail beside where they’d boarded.  _ What was he planning? _ “It’s about what you stole from me,” Yigit stropped, as Sanem tried not to laugh. “That treasure should have been mine.” 

“Well, you’re welcome to go after the rest of it if you’d like, fortunately for you, we had to leave most of it behind. Remind me, how’s your swimming?” 

“ENOUGH!” Yigit’s face was red now, his jaw clenched. 

_ Come on, Sanem, plan, any plan, even one of your batshit ones would do right now.  _

Still nothing. 

Fabri approached, and she conceded that if Yigit was a mere snake then the darker haired man was the great leviathan himself. He placed a hand on Yigit’s shoulder, a gesture that should have been calming, and was, after a flash of indignation lit up Yigit’s face. Pirates don’t play well with others. But they clearly had some sort of hashed alliance for now, and it was obvious who was in control. 

“Chasing fables can be fun, I’ll admit,” Fabri began, his accent making the words unfairly lyrical, yet adorned with something sinister all at once. “In truth, we did not come here for pretty gems and shiny metals, it has come to our… combined attentions, that there are certain other things more valuable in life.”

Sanem waited, her crew alert behind her. 

Fabri continued, ominously calm. “Are you aware, Mrs Sanem, that the current bounty on your head almost exceeds the worth of my entire ship.” 

_ That _ , she blinked,  _ was almost a compliment _ . It was a  _ very _ pretty ship, bit big for her tastes though. The logic clicked in her head then, startling - they wanted to sell her? But why would they be so fixated on snapping up a bounty for  _ her _ when Can was standing, equally as vulnerable, right next to her and easily worth a crown more. 

_ Wait, when had he moved so close? _

“And yet,” Fabri said. “I’ve often found vindication as reward enough in itself, and there’s almost a kind of poetry, I think, in handing you over to the country that raised you.”

_ Oh. _

“Is there even any room left for red on your hands, Fabri?” Can stepped forward, protective, lowering, every syllable grating like being dragged over rocks.  _ Gods, why was  _ he _ so angry?  _ Sure, maybe it had just been defensive, but there seemed more to it, his tone far harsher than she’d expected considering the two were allies-

Or… not? 

_ Ah, Sanem, you idiot - they really are all as fickle as a flock of starlings.  _ When had  _ that _ changed? Sanem blinked the surprise away; she could digest that information later. Hopefully. 

Yigit moved, and suddenly she was surrounded by the music of drawing swords, her heart thumping so loud in response it might as well have been the noise of thunder. 

The deck was still, but the tension made itself known even more proudly than Ceycey’s rooster had that morning as soon as the sun had joined the sky. Her own sword was in her hand now, she couldn’t even remember pulling it out. It was comfortable in her grip, familiar, but she still prefered pencils.  

_ They couldn’t fight. They couldn’t; they’d just end up slaughtered, like Ceycey’s - _

Fabri pulled a gun out. The barrel aimed straight at her head as the trigger audibly, alarmingly, clicked into place. 

Sanem glowered _ ,  _ that hardly seemed fair. 

“This is getting rather tedious, Sanem,” Fabri sighed. “I didn’t come all this way to ask politely. You will be coming with us, and the more you disagree with that concept the more of your friends will die, and I’d much rather not have to do any killing today. Am I understood?”

Sanem composed herself, as best she could with the threat of a bullet in front of her face. “I go with you, you leave everyone else alone?”

“On my honour as an admiral,” He placed a hand over the golden insignia over his shoulder, a gesture that seemed as false as his tone.  _ Honour.  _ She wasn’t sure how much faith she still had in that word, but trust was a sentiment she couldn’t afford right now. 

“Sanem,” Deren cautioned, and it was a pity all the vehemence in her voice would be wasted.  

“We will even allow your crew to keep whatever treasures they found today,” He offered, callousness seeping into every syllable. “Think of it as an early… consolation gift, of sorts.” 

Yigit seemed provoked, appalled, by the notion, and Can too - for another reason entirely, but he wasn’t the only one on her deck that had turned white in the face.

“You can’t be serious.” Can protested as he turned to her.

“Unless one of your gods is about to descend from the heavens and save us, I really don’t see another way out of this.” She knew, though she was trying to ignore the fact, that stepping foot inside a courthouse would inevitably end with her in a necklace of rope. But this was, what, the fifth time she’d stumbled into something remarkably stupid and reckless? She hadn’t died yet. 

She sheathed her sword, unlatching the blade from her belt along with the smaller scabbard of her knife, passing both into Deren’s bewildered arms. Better to leave them where they wouldn’t get nicked. “Look after them.” It wasn’t the weapons she was talking about, the Albatross would be Deren’s for a while.  _ Only _ a while. Hopefully. 

She expected him to stop her, so the hand tugging as it caught around her arm was no surprise. And easy to shake off.

“Sanem,” She could hear Can’s voice break a little, though she didn’t dare turn back to look at him. 

One of Fabri’s guards moved forward as she did, restraining with an almost harsh grip around her bicep as she was led toward and over the gangplank. The rest of their men followed, as she could finally breathe as she watched the deck of her ship become free from trespassers. Though her heart didn’t seem to start again until both Fabri and Yigit were out of cannon range. 

The Albatross looked pitifully small from a distance. And then she found herself dragged roughly down to the damp and metal bars of the brig, the hinges wailing in protest as the door was slammed shut behind her. 

 

* * *

 

Can was distraught, enraged, which was justified, Deren acknowledged, if not incredibly inconvenient right now. 

“We have to go after her! We can’t just sit here.” 

The shouting wasn’t really necessary, Deren scowled. “You don’t think I want to do that too, that I wouldn’t rush for the chance to pull her out of danger, same as you?” Deren growled back, shoving her hands against his chest as the brewing argument made him step too close. She was allowed to be furious too. “But do you really think we stand a chance against them? Look at us, the ship’s half-broken, and better designed for sneaking into coves under midnight than it is at combat even at the best of times. We fight, we all die. We give chase, we lose them somewhere halfway across the ocean. Desperation will no better prepare us for a rescue mission, Can Divit.” 

“Then we go get the Kral,” Can proposed. “It’s docked only a few days away, and then we gather anyone else who might be willing to help.”

_ That was… actually sensible. Since when had he been able to listen to logic over nearsighted emotion? _

“Okay, fine, we do that,” Deren threw her hands up. Being left so abruptly in charge of a ship, and the heartbeats of every single person on it, had set her bearings more wobbled than she’d expected. The crew looked dispirited, astonished, the feelings finding just as much of a nest in her own chest, but they did not rebel to show through her face. 

She nodded to Can, finally, a gesture of abdication as she sighed. “Lead the way.” 


	28. The Kara Ejderha

**Four Years Ago**

Sanem slumped, defeated, besides where Deren and Guliz were flaying the spines out of fish. They’d left L'île d'argent mere days ago - the port at which their most recent reprobate acquisitions had been offloaded - passing near the coastline, the nets had been thrown out.

Sanem had spent the morning fruitlessly with other matters. "I can't find my knife."

"Oh no, dear, such a shame," Deren replied, her voice as dry as desert sand. "Have you, perhaps, tried the last place you saw it?"

“Obviously,” Sanem scrunched her nose, mostly in indignation, partially from the smell. Seagulls had started to circle, but hadn’t yet braved swooping down, Guliz’ glares seemed to be guarding well enough. “It’s vanished, I haven't seen it in at least two days.”

"Well, it can't exactly have gone far." Darren gestured, showcasing the seclusion of the boat amongst the water around them.

 _Unless it’s toppled overboard?_ Sanem tried to push the thought from her mind, it could have been, she acknowledged, accidentally kicked all the way from her nightstand to the very edge of the ship, but the prospect seemed unlikely. She _hoped_ it was unlikely.

"Why are you so attached to that knife anyway?" Guliz inquired, another tiny spine arching over the taffrail behind them as she threw it away. The seagulls immediately plunged in a ruffle of white and grey feathers to fetch it from the waves. "That old thing’s been needing a good sight more than running over a whetstone for years, and it's as bland as anything, really."

Sanem shrugged. "It's symbolic, I guess; it's the first weapon I got after joining you guys."

"It's hardly a _weapon_ ," Deren countered.

“It’s small, sure, but it’s good enough at stabbing, you just have to be able to get close. I was practising, in L'île d'argent."

"You were practising stabbing people?" Deren raised an eyebrow.

"No," Sanem rolled her eyes, grinning all the same. "Sneaking up on them. Seeing how close I could get before they noticed. And either they didn’t at all, or they just decided my intentions and demeanour were completely guiltless, for some reason. They all pretty much ignored that I was even there.” Sanem still wasn’t sure if that was going to bother her or not, it _could_ have its merits. But the impression of harmlessness was unravelling what little bravado had grown inside her during fighting practice.

"That reason would be your face, dear," Deren said, snapping Sanem’s attention back. “You have a naturally innocent charm, use it.”

Sanem beamed a little inside at the comment, she _had_ managed to snag an ornate pocket watch. The poor man really should have been paying more attention - but then, maybe an honest town occupied by metalworkers and jewellers had been easy prey. They tolerated pirates, barely; subsidised commerce was an awfully tempting thing if you were willing to bend the law just a little, but the locals had been raised in a world where trust was not inimical.

Sanem had her knife on her _then_ , not that she had any intention of using it; keeping it on her belt was more habit than anything else, and equally a habit to place both blades beside her as she slept.

But the dagger had disappeared by dusk of next evening - though in truth expectation had given her no reason to believe it _wouldn’t_ be there, so it had taken that long to even check. She couldn’t fault herself for dropping it while on the island, she’d spent all of that day on the ship.

“Maybe Can took it,” Guliz suggested, absentminded. Her eyes seemed to flash a heartbeat later, the briefest of expressions, before she turned slowly, deliberately, to Deren who’s hands had also wavered in their task.

Sanem watched as the other two shared a look, attempting to be subtle with something that began as thoughtful, but soon turned a shade of quizzing - a conversation occurring seemingly within the negligible movements of their eyebrows.

Sanem blinked, lost. But just as quickly as it had started, it stopped, and they both returned to preparing what would eventually become dinner.

 _What was that?_ A line formed in Sanem’s forehead as she frowned. “Why… why would he have taken my knife?”

Deren shrugged, nonchalant, or trying to be. “Well, it was Can's originally, was it not, perhaps he's simply decided to take it back.”

"Why would he do that?" Sanem narrowed her eyes.

"Goodness, you know, I haven’t the foggiest,” Guliz said, dismissively, reaching a hand out to Gypsy as she waltzed over, an offering in her fingers.

The cat headbutted Sanem’s leg after eating, and Sanem allowed the distraction, ruffling her fingers behind the tortoiseshell’s ear. Her friends could be irritatingly cryptic at times. _At least you don't lie to me,_ she thought as Gypsy purred into her hand.

She glanced down then to the watercolour work of bruises on her arm, most were badges of honour from their recent squirmish, the rest slightly less virtuous. Paintings over her bare skin, a memory of where Can’s grip had been; he had not stayed so gentle. But she was not delicate, and he seemed to be learning.

“Hey, Sanem,” Guliz nudged a while later, her eyes looking up at the gulls settling over the beam of the mast, pointing. “What’s the other name for them?”

It was probably just a diversion, Sanem noted, but Guliz had adopted the habit of asking for creatures' other names since finding out about Sanem’s knowledge of Latin.

Sanem followed her gaze, it was one of the first she’d learnt. “Larus argentatus.” And then another set of wings caught her eye, smaller, though not from youth, darting easily on silver feathers between the larger birds. A rare little thing. “That one,” She pointed, aware her own interest was miniaturizing that of her friends. “Is a Larus laraline.’

“Laraline,” Guliz hummed, and maybe Sanem had been mistaken. “That’s a pretty name.”

“I think so,” Sanem nodded, agreeing.

Their corner of the deck turned quiet again, Sanem's mind skipping away to where it often played these days. The puzzle was still nagging at her brain.

Continued puzzling over the key had handed them a pitifully empty fruit basket. After spending a few evenings enraptured by the rotation of its shimmering, and then the following few nights star gazing to collaborate the constellations she'd filed away in her head, Sanem had confirmed that it was not, in fact, a map of the night sky. It had felt like a revelation at the time, but had really only shined lantern light on the dead-end they'd found themselves in. Discovering the lost kingdom of lore might take a whole lifetime, but what a way to spend it. This was so much _more_ than anything she'd ever imagined for herself.

She wondered how Leyla was doing then, the question lacking the teeth it once had. If her sister would be happy with her attentive husband on their muddy little farm. It was dizzying, almost, how narrowly she’d avoided that shade of mundane for herself; how simple it would have been for fate to have led her by the hand to _anywhere_ else. To not feel the planks of wood in the deck under her feet, the salt in every ruffle of air, and the warmth of someone to crawl into bed beside when dusk turned to darkness.

Can had, reluctantly, relented that any progression into the mystery would likely only occur under the aid of his mother and whatever information she'd unearthed. The orb had been retired to his desk drawer, as had most of the crew’s interest in it. Dead ends were exceptionally dull, it turned out.

It was remarkable they'd refrained from bumping into his mother's ship despite now having returned to the oceans coveted by the alliance. Can had either been very lucky, or very tactful.

But whatever force had been powering that avoidance was about to run out.

 

* * *

 

The sails came into sight under the timid light of the following dawn. Sun-bleached black and purple, a dragon coiling over the canvas, menacing. Spectacular.

"Brace yourself, Sanem." Metin warned, approaching.

Deren’s words echoed through her mind from months ago, _not the sort of woman you’d want as a mother in law_. The title was perhaps contentious, but the sentiment remained. Could she get away with Can _not_ feeling the need to introduce her as _someone_ to him, would he even want to, if the two were truly so estranged?

It turned out he did.

Sanem wasn’t sure if it was sweet or terrifying, keenly aware of the look his mother sent her as he did so, a face as cold as the ice that had infested her dreams. The expression seemed incriminating, at a glance, though Sanem did not shy away. Can was not so much of a fool that he would have done this if it had any chance of bringing her harm. She hoped at least.

Sanem had placed Gypsy over her shoulders, the cat relaxing there like a scarf. She was almost an accessory, but mostly moral support.

“Can,” Huma nodded in greeting after they’d boarded the Kara Ejderha.

The ship was magnificent, a prized gem in itself, and Sanem was left gaping when she realised it was crewed entirely by women. She’d assumed the few on Can’s were a rarity. Apparently not.

Any sentiment between the two was entirely barren, Sanem noted. Her own parents had never been saints, even the most heartfelt love could be tarnished by what seems unjust at the time. But Can approached his mother like a colleague, and Huma mirrored the same familiarity. Sanem couldn’t be sure, but it almost seemed practised, a kind of restraint, as she watched the older woman.

Expectation had fooled her plenty of times before, but Sanem was startled by the captain of the Kara Ejderha as she stood before her. No serpent hair, no glinting fangs, no eyes glowing like the dark pits of hell. Instead, a frizzle of dark red hair under a black and gold-laced captains hat, eyes with crinkled edges that showed her age, though modestly, salt and sun-touched skin under a coat that seemed to have been stolen from an admiral at some point in its life. Huma was disarmingly human.

Pleasantries over, Huma indicated towards the map room, the older woman’s jaw setting as Can nodded for Sanem to follow along with Metin and Deren. Honestly, Sanem wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing there either.

The door closed with a thud behind them, the room more spacious than its counterpart on the Kral, she noted, as the arranged group surrounded a central table. There were certain conversations best had in private, details could be picked and chosen for sharing later.

“In future, I would appreciate if you could endeavour to be a little less hard to find,” Huma began, every inch of docility in the words drowned out by the aggravation in her tone. She waited for no reply, perhaps aware he’d unlikely heed the warning. “What news do you have of the key, I trust the information I left on Ikiüous was of help?”

“Unfortunately, none at all,” Can admitted. Sanem watched carefully for a shift in his demeanour, for any crack in the armour, but Can continued as though standing in front of his mother was nothing at all to be concerned with. Sanem frowned. “We… ran into a little trouble leaving the island, there was an accident, regarding your letters.”

“An accident?” Huma’s arms folded.

“There was another ship in harbour, we assumed they were innocuous at first, but were quickly proven wrong when they sent an emissary to attempt to steal the notes from us.” He didn’t mention the monkey - Sanem wasn’t certain if that was from embarrassment or the understanding that half the room would scarcely believe the tale. “We... _may_ have let them catch on fire to prevent the contents falling into the wrong hands.”

Huma did not seem at all pleased with that. “You… _let_ them catch on fire?” Her voice turned deep like the threat of thunder. “Gods, did you not even take into account the value of those letters? You, like a complete and utter fool, let possibly the one and only clue to finding the wealth of Anaiga burn to ash in front of your eyes? Good lord, Can, If someone tries to steal something invaluable, you cut off their hand, you do not impudently destroy what they are trying to steal. You might as well have let them take it."

"Those notes contained information of your whereabouts." Can pointed out, though Huma seemed to care little for that explanation.

"Oh please, I am perfectly capable of removing any gang of thugs that try to come after me. As are you, though you seem to have forgotten. You could have merely taken the letters back in once piece, it would have been so little effort."

"People would have died."

Sanem wanted to reach for him, to calm him with the touch of her hand, but glares didn’t seem worth dialling down the shield that was his anger. He was right, he should be allowed to defend that.

Huma rolled her eyes, and Sanem didn't think she'd ever seen someone mean it so viscerally. "You are turning soft, Can."

Can took a breath, slow and subtle. Before he pulled the set of wrinkled parchment out of his pocket. “Anyway, it hardly matters, we have a copy of your little Latin puzzle.”

“A copy?” Huma narrowed her eyes.

“Sanem made it, from memory, after the first was lost,” Can explained, _and Gods, he actually sounded proud._

Huma’s eyes landed on her then, but Sanem met her gaze. The older women eventually turning to the paper as Can presented it over the table. It was perhaps, two-thirds of what had been on the original. Her memory had refused her the rest.

“You recalled this, in all this detail?” Huma asked, analysing the parchment - Sanem was almost taken aback by the thread of awe in her voice. Gyspy purred in her ear, claws digging almost painfully into her shoulder. Sanem just nodded.

“Mind like a steel trap, that one,” Metin praised. Sanem hoped she wasn’t glowing from it too much. “She could probably recite the whole of Anaigan gospel word for word if you pressed her to.”

That was, perhaps, an endearing misjudgement. It was a _very_ big book.

“I see,” Huma said. “And you can read this?”

“Some of it,” Sanem admitted, pleased that her voice wasn’t quiet.

“I was hoping you’d find a translator. You will have to do, I suppose. Have you made any further sense of it?”

 _Lord, her eyes were like knives._ The glowing disappeared in a heartbeat. “No,” Sanem confessed. And why would she? Half of the references sprawled over the page were not born from a culture she’d grown up in. Though none of the lifelong pirates had understood them either.

“Pity,” Huma sighed, in an expression that seemed as though she were pleased to have a winning card to play. “As far as my investigations prevailed before I thought it better to redirect this task to you, the ramblings suggest that for the key to function, a second piece is needed. I believe this is the brother that is mentioned.”

Sanem allowed the rhyme to sing through her head.

_Those who seek the lady's throne, eyes of blood and heart of stone. Through death stained waters and devil's pass, for a crown of crystal and a key of glass._

A crown of crystal seemed awfully heavy, Sanem thought, not for the first time, how could you possibly wear something like that without getting a neck ache? Not practical at all.

“So what happens when you have both the crown and the key?” Sanem asked, though by the looks on her friend’s faces it had not clicked so quickly for them.

She could have been mistaken, but Huma looked as though a sapling of an impressed grin was pushing through her expression. It died pretty quickly. “That, I do not know. Nor, unfortunately, how to find the crown. I was hoping I could leave that to you, I have more... pressing matters to attend.”

“The rest of you can leave,” Huma dismissed them suddenly with a wave of her hand, Sanem hadn’t expected it all to be over so soon. “I wish to speak with my son.”

Deren looped her arm through Sanem’s as they began to relinquish the captains to their privacy, but Huma beckoned her name before she’d had the chance to step through the door.

“Sanem,” She turned, suddenly nervous, as Huma’s focus honed on her. “If you ever have any desire to govern your own ship one day, come and speak with me again, I believe I can have something arranged.”

The glow returned, though this time a hue contaminated with something that felt _wrong_. And then Deren was dragging her out the door.

 

* * *

 

“Was there really any need for that?” Can asked, after the others had departed the room. “You’ve known her for all of five minutes and you’ve already made it your mission to take her away from me?”

“Dear, that was not for your benefit,” Huma interjected, moving to take a glass decanter off the cabinet at the side of the room, before taking a seat at the table. “She’s smart, and no doubt her skills will be wasted with you if she has to remain your little cabin pet.”

“She’s not-” Can held back the rage burning in his chest. “She chose this life freely, she’s as much a pirate as the rest of us, she’s no one’s pet.”

“She’s _hardly_ a pirate.” His mother scoffed, pouring herself a heavy glass. “You might have her all dressed up and playing the part but right now she’s pitifully inexperienced and likely going to end up bleeding on the end of someone’s sword if you’re not careful. Maybe even your own.”

_If she’s so useless, why is it you want to steal her?_

His voice was louder now, incrementally, though he was trying to stay in control - fury was raising a tempest. “And why would _I_ ever hurt her? She’s the love of my-”

Huma rolled her eyes again, interrupting him before he could finish. “Oh please, Can, this is merely some aimless infatuation that you for now feel like indulging."

Can slammed his dagger into the wood of the table, which was a shock even to himself as he hadn't even realised he'd removed it from his belt. His mother glared as the contents of her glass almost wobbled over the edge. He forced himself to calm then.

“I forget sometimes, _mother_ ,” A cobra’s fang had less venom. “That your heart has not functioned for years. What can be known of love from a woman capable of discarding her own child when he was barely four days old.”

There was a reason, he recalled, why they rarely spoke.

The glass in her hand shattered as she threw it against the wall, a sudden and unfortunate reminder of the origin of his own temper. “Do not lecture me on devotion, boy, and do not presume to know the truth of events that occurred before your eyes could even focus.”

“Truth?” Can’s eyebrow raised. _How had she earned the right for this to be a condemned and caustic topic for her too? He should be the only one hurting._ “What truth is there other than the fact you abandoned me.”

“You insufferable child,” She scoffed. “You really believe a ship is any place to raise an infant? What choice did I have?.”

“You choose to send me away,” Can asserted, the scar was ripping straight back open again. “What was stopping you from leaving too, for you to follow with us to Touson?”

Huma let out an agitated breath as if the answer were obvious. “Everyone in that city wanted me dead. _Wants_ me dead. They would have killed us both within weeks if they’d known from the start that you were mine. Until you were old enough to protect yourself, your father’s lies kept you safe.” Huma simmered then, forcibly, rising to fetch another glass before emptying the contents of the decanter. Downing it. “I did not abandon you, Can, I tried writing, almost every week until the year I brought you on to my ship; though it was obvious at that point that your father had withheld the letters from you. Fourteen years old and you scarcely even knew my name.”

Can paused. This was… new. She could have been lying, a facade to save her own face, he wouldn’t put it past her. Though he couldn’t quite figure out what benefit that would have been, if any.

But he’d had enough for one day. “Are we done?”

“Can-”

“Are we done, what of the other matter,” He just wanted to leave. “You said you needed our aid with something?”

Her eyes had gone distant, clouded. Though he could make no sense of that either. “Oh, that, a trivial thing, it has been postponed for now. We… we are done.”

He snapped Sanem’s counterfeits off the table then, before barging his way back out onto the deck then, leaving her alone in the room, his mind reeling as he returned to the familiarity of his own ship across the gangplank connecting them. Had that fun, little catch-up even been necessary, he wondered, or simply a kennel master prying through cage bars to check on her dogs?

 

* * *

 

Sanem followed Can’s retreat to his cabin, concern in her footsteps as she kept pace. Metin had been left to coordinate the ship’s departure - preferably to literally _anywhere_ that wasn’t here.

"Are you okay?" Sanem asked, the closing door providing needed seclusion.

It always surprised him when the let down of anger turned his limbs weak, he perched against the edge of the bed, an effort to stop himself collapsing.

“Not exactly,” He sighed, the mattress dipped as she sat beside him. “She revealed something... unexpected. New.”

"About the key?"

"About _me,_ actually." Can explained.

"Oh," Her voice was always so soft when she was worried. "Is it something you want to talk about?"

"I’m not even sure if it’s true,” His father had always described it as such a heartless decision, whenever Can had asked, words of desertion and cowardice. But this changed things, didn’t it, if it _was_ true? Had she really tried to keep in contact with him? Had his father deprived them both of that? He must have had a reason. “I think I need to visit my dad, to talk with him.”

Sanem nodded, taking one of the hands in his lap into hers. Her thumb tracing soothing patterns over his skin. “There’s always two sides to a story. And then there’s the truth - sat balancing on the craggy and broken ledge that lies somewhere in between.” It really shouldn't have startled him still how intuitively she could pick up on things. "But is it safe? To go back there yet?"

“I think so, I stayed away from the Mavi Canavari for so long it would be no shock if people assumed I’d departed from the alliance altogether. Through meeting my mother again, and no doubt that news will spread fast, the rest of the sea should be more cautious in getting tangled up with us now. But just to be careful, we’ll sail in at dusk, and leave before morning.”

Darkness would hide the silhouette of the ship enough that predators would not pick them out quite so quickly.

“Was she joking?” Sanem said after a slow moment of comfortable silence, unexpected, making Can turn to look at her. “About me commanding my own ship one day, did she mean it?”

Can felt himself smile, a fragile thing, though the affection wasn’t lost. “No, she wasn’t joking,” Sanem seemed rightfully cautious in accepting Huma’s praise. “But if you want your own ship you are more than capable of getting hold of one without anyone’s help, you don’t need to be indebted to her.” It still bothered him that Huma technically owned the Kral, but that was a hurdle for another day.

His mother had been wrong about one thing, he was certain.

“People are going to keep underestimating you, Sanem,” He said, his grip pulsing over her hand to retrieve her attention. Meeting her eyes as she faced him, her nose twitching adorably in discontent at his statement. “Let them.”

Huma had clearly seen Sanem’s potential, in a latent sense - while blatantly missing what value she had right now, exactly as she was. It was an unsuspecting thing. But even Metin was no longer having to feign contest against her in sparring practise, though Sanem still leaned more towards using her dagger than a sword.

He would hopefully be able to return it soon, he realised, a detour back to L'île d'argent would only add a few extra days.


	29. Of Pink Skies And Promise Knives

**Four Years Ago**

The sun was in rapture, returning to the heavens and stealing back the sky from the stars as they blinked away from the faint glow of morning. It was stunning, apricot and violet washed over the horizon in wide strokes of a brush held by a being that seemed to have woken with a lightened spirit. The morning was warm and the sky was clear and Sanem’s arms felt like they were going to fall off. The good mood, inarguably, hadn’t been extended to her. 

Spending all day climbing the rigging playing nurse to the fabric of a sail that seemed entirely held together by sutures of cotton thread and sheer force of will had left her arms in need of a nurse themselves. But for the hours she’d spent up there with Tursuan hanging from ropes, the muscles were not objecting nearly as strongly as she’d expected. She was getting stronger - still. Not to the degree of it being unsightly, but no one would have expected the tone in her limbs or the tan on her skin to have fit the body of a baker’s daughter. A mere sapling turned into… maybe not a whole tree - but a shrub, she thought. A shrub she could accept, for now. 

Sanem scrunched her nose then, maybe that wasn’t the most charming of metaphors. Whatever. 

She’d described herself as feeling like a duckling once, hadn’t she? Something about a little bird trying to paddle through a vast ocean. Turns out wings are pretty useful when you learn how to use them, and even the flyways of mallards could span continents. Sanem grinned. 

The sails had been set to take them back to Touson after a return visit to L'île d'argent. Can had insisted on it - for some reason. Sanem couldn’t fathom what value the repetitive detour could possibly have had, and he’d been weirdly dismissive whenever she’d asked. 

But crossing an ocean still treacherous, they’d been stationed to keep a keen eye on the horizon. It was clear now. The most entertaining thing in Sanem’s sight being Gypsy, napping atop an oakwood storage barrel by Sanem’s side, purring, and noticeably less chubby than she had been. Remembering to feed her had become necessary now that she’d slaughtered the very last of the rodents stowing away under the decks and floorboards of the Kral. She’d done her job too well, but Gypsy seemed just as happy with fish scraps. 

 _Are you even able to contemplate how far away from home we are?_ Sanem wondered as she tickled a hand under the cat’s outstretched chin, the vibrations thrumming through her fingers. _Not a half-bad life for an ex-farm cat, though quite the contrast to chasing mice through golden wheat fields._

Sanem heard footsteps then, looking up to find Deren approaching with mugs of promised tea in hand. Sanem thanked her as she passed the second into her hands, a rattly old thing made of tin, it’s contents as unappetising as the first time she’d tasted them. Foul, was the word that had come to mind, but she wasn’t going to complain, it was still markedly better than the alternative. Family seemed a very… complicated thing to have to balance while sailing over miles of hostile seas and dark open oceans. Huma was a testament to that. 

Sanem wasn’t sure if she should have been, but despite everything she couldn’t help being impressed, and it was remarkable really, that the older women had somehow managed to coordinate one of the largest and longest-lived alliances in pirate history. 

“How many of them are there?” Sanem asked.

“How many of… uh,” Deren stalled. “How many of what? Did I miss the first half of this conversation?”

“Sorry, I’m thinking out loud, mostly.” Sanem shook her head faintly, hoping it would pan out the background noise there. “How many ships are there,” She started again. “In the Mavi Canavari?”

Deren hummed, taking a sip of her tea as she settled over one of the barrels not occupied by the cat. They made convenient chairs when furniture wasn’t around. “Well. There’s us, one of Can’s old friends who also used to work on his mother’s ship - Akif, the delightful Huma herself, and normally at least one other ship. Whichever poor soul Huma has her claws in at the time.”

“So four, normally?”

Deren nodded. “It’s a bit of a fluid thing. There were as many as five years, _years_ , ago.”

“Is there a fourth right now?”

“There seems to be,” Deren nodded. “From the sound of her letters, it would appear she’s wrangled in some poor fool that she’ll no doubt play like a fiddle.” 

“But we don’t know who it is.” Sanem realised she’d finished her drink, thankfully. 

“Not a clue,” Deren shrugged. “She likes having her secrets, gives her some grandiose sense of superiority over everyone else. Like Guliz when she’s playing cards.” Deren turned thoughtful. “I’m sure she cheats, I just haven’t figured out how yet.” 

The rest of the ship was waking now, slowly. 

Can had tried to convince her against taking dawn watch-shifts, the allure of a warm bed had been painfully tempting but she didn’t want to allow herself beneficence just because they were together. She was still a part of his crew, and she was proud of that. She wasn’t going to stop proving that she deserved to be. 

“It’s going to rain later,” Deren acknowledged, nodding towards the sunrise. “Pretty skies like to deceive.”

Sanem just nodded. The weather would do as it pleased; she just prayed the turmoil could wait until Can reached his father, there would be time enough for it then. 

 

* * *

 

The rain broke hours before they reached the harbour. The fall distorting the view of the bay so that any prying eyes would face a view like looking through a misted window. No one would be waiting for them, and they’d be gone by first light at the latest. Can promised there would be no trouble. 

Sanem pulled the hood of her cloak tightly over her head, following his hand as he led her through the city like ghosts creeping through fog. The locals were sheltering inside houses, inside taverns - and those brave enough to not be were easily avoided. The rain kept from their eyes by garments that the few unavoidable passerbys would have accepted as a refuge from the weather, and not the guise they would have been otherwise. 

Considering the decadence of Huma’s ship, it was a surprise to find the other of Can’s parents living in something so modest. He had come from wealth, but he had not been raised in it. 

Can paused outside the front door. Something cautious in his shoulders, but, more than that, something scared, and she understood then why he’d insisted everyone else stay behind on the ship. It was just the two of them here. Twelve years was a long time to be away from home, and he was wavering.

She squeezed his hand, earning a nod, nearly a smile, before he stepped forward and knocked on the door. 

It was a woman that opened it. Smile lines in the corners of her eyes, deep brown hair that would have fallen far below her shoulders had it not been restrained in a braid, a welcoming expression, though it stiffened for only the briefest moment, her eyes flickered away from Can after a long moment, towards Sanem, before then returning to the man on her doorstep. Staying there for long enough that it was confirmed to Sanem they knew each other; there was nothing awkward about the silence. Sad, maybe even a little broken, but it was also too warm an expression on her face to have come from anyone other than someone who had watched him grow. And someone who had watched him leave.

Sanem thought Can was about to speak then, but suddenly he was being pulled into a hug, which was a feat considering how much smaller his stepmother was than him. 

She seemed still at a loss for words when she’d finally sated herself, pulling away, but keeping the palms of her hands resting over either side of his face. 

Mihriban came back to herself then, noticing for the first time that her clothes were becoming drenched. 

“Dinner?” The older women asked, words finally breaking the sound of the patters of rain. “I’d just… I’d just finished cooking,” She turned back to Sanem, her next question for both of them. “Would you like to come in for dinner?”

 

* * *

 

The hearth was burning, the room a pleasant retreat to warmth as they moved out of the rain, Mihriban offering to hang their coats near the fire to dry.

The living room was smaller than Can remembered - but then he used to be too. His father looked older, greyer, but time had not been unkind to him; Can’s memories of the older man’s face authentic even now. Though he hadn’t looked quite so flustered before. Thrown off guard in the middle of an evening that had promised to be unremarkable. 

There was no anger in his expression, no betrayal, as his mind caught up with his eyes to the truth that his son had just walked through the front door. 

“Can,” Aziz said, almost, but not quite a question. 

“Hi,” It was a lame greeting, considering everything, Can thought. But the confidence he’d prepared himself to stand on was toppling out from underneath him remarkably fast. 

“You’re home,” Aziz seemed still under the belief that it was an apparition standing before him. 

“Yeah,” _Gods, he hoped proper words would return to him soon._ He felt Sanem at his side then, glancing towards her before he realised he had yet to introduce her. “Uh… baba, this is -”

The feel of his father’s hug crashing into him stole the words from his chest. “You’re home.”

Can held him back just as tightly.

 

* * *

 

_What had ever made think his father required loyalty, that leaving would be an injunction to ever return. Aziz wasn’t mad, vengeful. He was just...happy._

Something twisted in Can’s chest at wondering what sort of indoctrinations Huma had put him through as a youth to believe any of that would be true. Aziz had missed him, they’d both missed him, enough that they were willing to forgive so easily, and overlook asking _why_ for the joy of just having him with them again, even for a short while. But he had come to ask questions, so that battlefield would have to be walked through at some point. For now, he was letting himself simply share a meal between them again. 

They had, eventually, learned Sanem’s name. Though she’d clearly seen no injustice in letting them reacquaint for a few moments, not wanting to confuse a reunion she was not part of. But then Aziz seemed to acknowledge her, the fact she was here with him, and everything that might mean. Welcoming her too, his curiosity keen as he smiled for her, warm as ever. 

 

* * *

 

They all just talked, long enough that it began pushing the boundaries of what was safe. An hour passed, and then another, and it felt as comfortable as if he’d never left. 

It was an uncomplicated thing, having Sanem here, and watching her be with them. A moment in which he’d returned from helping Mihriban scrubbing dishes, finding Sanem sat in conversation with his father. The older man had been explaining, and it was news to Can too, how he’d retired from ship work entirely. That he now occupied his time aiding the asylum structures within the city. 

“There’s a tree of us just trying to help people, across some of the neighbouring countries too - its been growing recently,” Aziz explained, scratching the stubble of his beard. “It’s not the most respected of work in a place like this, but people arrive in Touson for all sorts of reasons, and some of them need help,” He shrugged. “We do what we can; find home for those who are lost, assist those that need to disappear. Ayaz used to help out occasionally, he had some contacts from his homeland...” He trailed off solemnly.

“I’m sorry about Ayaz,” Sanem consoled, her voice gentle. “I met him, before… He was a kind man.” 

“Anyway, enough of that,” Aziz dismissed, trying to uplift the mood of the room again after it had turned blue for too long. “You haven’t yet told me how you find your way onto Can’s ship?” It was not the first question he’d asked her, some almost prying, but the syllables lacked any of the judgement Huma had shown her. This was no interrogation, just honest interest. 

“I wish I could say it was because of anything other than a cliche runaway story,” Sanem explained, laughing lightly. “I left home, left my family, I ended up getting lost - and then the Kral found me.” It occurred to Can then, for the first time, how similar the roots of their stories were.

“Your family,” His father prompted, softer now. “Do you miss them?” 

Sanem paused for a heartbeat, truth mellowing her answer. “Yeah, sometimes. My decision to leave was a bit rash, I can see that now.” 

“Do you regret it?” Aziz asked.

Her eye’s found Can’s then, searching across the room before she spoke again. “No.”

 

* * *

 

Can was not the first to step onto the battlefield, though in the moment he wasn’t sure if the conversation being left unrehearsed in his head was a good thing or not. 

“Why did you come back? Why now?” His father asked, out of earshot from the women. It wasn’t the question that took Can by surprise, but the fact it was his first. _Why did you leave?_ He’d expected, he’d prepared, but his father either didn’t care or already knew the answer to that. His son had gone, there was no rectifying that, but something important had to have shifted for a change to occur. Aziz was as familiar with Can’s attainments as anyone, more so. His son’s life over the last twelve years had been kept no guarded mystery to him.

“Huma…” Can began, it felt better to refer to her by name around his actual family. “She told me something. I don’t know if she was lying, playing some sort of game, but she said…” Can took a steadying breath. “She said she’d been writing letters to me when I was a kid, and that you’d be withholding them.” 

The answer was immediate in the guilt on his father’s face. But Can’s felt no resentment growing inside him at the unintended admission, just understanding. 

“I was -” Aziz looked troubled, his eyes betraying a ghost of remorse. “I was desperate to keep her away from you, every part of her. Even the mere mention of her name. You were mine, and that’s all anyone needed to know. But you always had so many questions. I guess my stubbornness didn’t work out so well in the end; building up a notoriety of her just made you all the more eager to go exploring. And I’m sorry. Barricading you from what little attempts she made at contact was pointless. And it was wrong.”

It was strange, that in those first initial years of working his mother’s ship, he’d tried so hard to find approval, to seek validation from someone who saw him as just another of her crew. He’d been bitter too, sure. The emotions had fought inside him, and eventually, over years - he’d learned to ignore both. But something had settled now, a storm-roused ocean turned still, and it had happened to moment he’d stepped through the door. 

 

* * *

 

The rain had stopped by the time they left. Stealthing along wet cobblestone roads back towards the ship that had been left in a bay to the right of the city, a less frequented and industrialised harbour. 

His feet hit sand when they reached it, the Kotu Kral ambling on the water a mile out. There was no sign of trouble, and he let himself breath then. Contacting the ship in the same way he had before, a lantern left on the beach to signal with, watching for the flickering light of acknowledgement. 

Sanem bundled her coat into a pillow, sitting on the sand while using the material to guard off the damp from the rainfall. Can joined her; their convoy could be a while.

“I like them,” She said simply. 

“Yeah, I do too.” He’d been so lucky with who had raised him, it had taken him far too long to realise. He’d had the mother he’d needed. Mihriban had spent the last half of the evening gushing over Sanem’s latest sketchbook after Can had brought the topic up, and now seemed just as ready to adopt Sanem too. Which was encouraging to the point of this no longer seeming daunting. 

Had anyone even explained the tradition to her yet, he wondered? Hopefully, a lack of understanding wouldn’t take anything away from the meaning of the moment, that she would at least understand the manner of his tone if she was blind to the effect of the gift he was handing her. 

He removed the knife from where it had been tucked inside the lining of his coat. Boldly revealing it where he knew she would be able to see, he twirled the hilt under a glowing beam from the lantern on the sand beside them, observing the reflection waltz over its edge of silver.

Sanem sucked in a gasp. 

 _So she did know?_ He frowned, turning back towards her. 

It was humbling, and not at all out of character, that when he found her eyes she was looking neither at him nor the promise knife in his hands. 

She was watching a _bird._

Following her line of sight to find white feathers skimming low over the water, a wingspan so wide that it almost seemed a creature pulled from folklore, illuminated only by a mellow touch of moonlight dusted over the waves it played with. 

“It’s an albatross,” She said, though it sounded like a whisper, and more a note of disbelief to herself than an explanation offered to him. 

She was smiling, wonderstruck as she watched it, it was concerningly disarming, and he had to refrain from kissing her out of fear she’d curse at him for distracting her attention, but it was amusement, not envy, that was making itself known inside him.

He was too busy watching her to realise the darkness had stolen back sight of the Albatross, as she turned back to face him, her eyes snagging.

“My dagger,” She snatched it from him in a blink, suddenly unsure of her initial statement. “What on earth did you do to it?”

The frown wasn’t exactly promising, he noted. It _was_ her dagger. Perhaps in the same way that a butterfly was once a bumbling caterpillar. “It’s had a few adjustments.” 

“A few?” She had a point, though he’d been meticulous about it; the balance and weight of it was still the same. The silver enamelled blade now sharp enough to be killing off her habit of running the tip of a finger along its ridge, the white hilt now adorned with the silhouette of birds on the wing. 

The frown disappeared from her face as it became clear she was more annoyed that he’d hidden it from her than the fact he’d taken the liberty to enhance it. 

“Sanem, has anyone told you about promise knives?” 

She shook her head. “I remember Ayaz mentioned them. It’s a pirate thing right?”

Can nodded, careful. “It’s a tradition passed down from Anaigan myth. Supposedly queen Tahalia stabbed her lover in the heart before murdering the rest of her kingdom.”

“How romantic.”

Can laughed, agreeing. “The sentiment stems from the reverse; pirates can be a rugged bunch, but it’s a promise _not_ to do that, I guess.” 

Sanem could understand that, it was a surrender - symbolically. It was giving up something that could be used to hurt, making yourself vulnerable while passing a form of power onto another person. There was a bare sense of trust to it, and it was beautiful. In a metaphorical sense. 

“Originally,” Can continued. “One would gift a knife they’d had in their possession for years, so you were surrendering something personal and of value to you. At some point, that concept sunk to owning the most eccentric, modern design you could find. I thought that would be a more authentic compromise.” He pointed to the dagger in her hands, hesitant, as if he were seeking some sort of approval. 

“It is very pretty,” _Turns out she could have the brain of a corvid too, something so shiny…_

“Sanem,” He said, tugging her attention back with a voice that sounded like honey. “Pirates use promise knives to propose.” 

Sanem blinked at him. “They do what.” 

“Sanem,” He repeated, smiling at her, his eyes exceedingly fond. “Will you marry me?” 

 _Pirates can get married?_ She didn’t say that one out loud, aware it wouldn’t be fair to keep answering questions with more questions, especially that one. But this seemed outlandish. Pirates roamed in the spaces outside the reach of law, their religion was considered myth by most and ancient history by the rest - what use could they possibly have for the legalities marriage? Still, there was only one response her mind was conjuring as she realised she’d spent far too long gaping at him. 

“How?”

“How... what?” Can puzzled, increasingly discouraged, but only by a little. 

“How do you get married?” She asked. “I can’t imagine such a thing as pirate weddings - you don’t have any houses of worship, nor anything in the same vein as a cleric or priest, how do they work?” 

“I mean,” He stammered, thrown by the questions. “They’re not particularly ceremonial, most of the time they take place on a ship. Metin would have to officiate, but… gods Sanem,” He shook his head, resetting himself, before moving to cup both of his hands around her face, thumbs brushing over her jawline. Polite, amused, as he asked. “Can I please have an answer?”  

 _Wasn’t this one of the very things she’d been trying to avoid by running away from home in the first place?_ She didn’t seem to care so much anymore. 

“Yes,” She found herself whispering, resolutely and emphatically, louder this time. “Yes.”


End file.
